


Perfect Chemistry

by theblondewitch



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Angst, BDSM, Daddy Dom Kylo Ren, Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Dominant Kylo Ren, Drugs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Feelings, Fluff, High School, I'm Going to Hell, Inappropriate Behavior, Kylo Ren Has Issues, Masturbation, NSFW, Oral Sex, POV Kylo Ren, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Kylo Ren, Reader-Insert, Rough Sex, Sex, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Smut, Teacher Kylo Ren, Teacher-Student Relationship, Unhealthy Relationships, Violence, heavy smut, y/n
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:06:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 48,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27328519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theblondewitch/pseuds/theblondewitch
Summary: This year was going to be your year. This year you were a senior.You were ready to put the awful events of the summer behind you. A clean slate was exactly what you needed. A fresh start. Until…Life throws you a curveball, in the form of your new chemistry teacher, Mr Ren. Mysterious and alluring, you are instantly drawn to him. But is there more to him than meets the eye? Is it possible that your feelings could be...reciprocated?Modern AU Kylo x Reader fic. Teacher Kylo Student Y/NThis story is a slow burn, establishing characters and relationships in the first few chapters. Things get *spicy* around Ch. 9Heavy eventual smut.Chapters alternating Y/N and Kylo's POV.*also on wattpad under theblondewitch1*
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Reader, Kylo Ren/You
Comments: 28
Kudos: 155





	1. A Fresh Start

The repetitive beeping from your alarm clock rouses you. You extend your arm out of the warmth of your bed covers and bash your hand down on top of the button, immediately silencing it. The red numbers flash at you in the dark. 7am. _Fuck._

Groaning, you roll onto your back as you remember what today was. First day of school. First day of Senior year. You were trying to think positively, but after everything that had happened, this was proving to be a challenge. 

Groggily, you pull your sheets back and slip out of bed. You cross to your window and peak through the curtains. Grey skies and rain. Of course. What else. 

You yawn and stretch, catching a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror. God, you looked like shit. You’re not sure how much sleep you managed to get; an hour, maybe two. Insomnia did not look good on you.

Opening your wardrobe, you stare at the small and disappointing array of clothes you had to choose from. As your Mom used to say; school was for learning, it wasn't a fashion show. You pull out a dark dress, tights and slip on your usual worn down Docs. 

You head downstairs to the kitchen. Dad is already sitting in his usual spot at the table, drinking a black coffee.  
‘Bye Dad. I’m off to school,' you say, grabbing a piece of toast from the rack and throwing your jacket on.  
‘Ok hun,’ he replies, but doesn’t look up from the paper. You’re not even sure he’s heard you properly. It was like he was running on autopilot these days. He hadn’t been right since...you put an immediate stop to that train of thought. 

You cross your front lawn to Armie’s house next door. He had been your neighbour and best friend for as long as you could remember. You had literally been in diapers together and walking to and from school was just a part of everyday life now. The look of shock on his face as he answers the door both surprises and worries you.

‘Hey Armie. You ready?’  
‘Oh! Um..hey. Er what the fuck?’ He looks completely taken aback, as if he’s seen a ghost.  
‘What? Don’t tell me I’ve got the date wrong. Today is the first day of school, right?’ you jest.  
‘Yeah of course. But um, I just wasn’t expecting you...I mean I didn’t think you’d be back, you know, so soon, after everything…’ he stutters.  
‘Look Armie, I appreciate your concern, but honestly, I’m fine.’ You try to sound convincing. ‘I’d rather just not talk about it. You coming?’  
He briefly hesitates before replying, ‘Yeah, sure.’ 

You walk in silence for a while. It was never awkward with him though. You knew each other better than most siblings. You were both what you would describe as _misfits._ Never popular, never surrounded by big groups of friends, always in the background and never the centre of attention. 

Armie was, for want of a better word; a nerd. Clever and brilliant, yet obsessed with comic books and sci-fi films (Star Trek in particular) and, to his absolute horror; still a virgin. You'd been witness to many tried and failed attempts of his to speak to girls. It had never ended well.

And as for yourself...you'd always been more of a lone wolf kind of girl. You didn't fit in with what society classed as pretty and popular. You weren't a petite blonde. You hated the colour pink. The thought of being anywhere near the numbskull jocks of your school was enough to make you vomit. You were a loner. But you were OK with that. You were happy in your own company. 

As you turn the corner and approach the ugly, concrete building you had come to know so well, you realise people are looking at you. Heads turning in your direction. People whispering and giggling under their breath.

'Everyone's staring at you,' Armie states, pointing out the obvious.  
'Really? Wow thanks, I hadn't noticed.'  
So everyone knew. News really did travel fast in a small town.

Shit. Up ahead, you could see a large group of guys and could just about make out Jake. The very last person you wanted to encounter right now. Eyes down, don't look at him. You try to be as inconspicuous as possible as you walk past. But fuck, he's seen you. He's coming after you. You carry on walking.

'Hey wait! Er can I, can I talk to you for a sec?' he says, grabbing your arm. Unwanted physical contact 5 seconds into the semester. Nice.

Without leaving you much of a choice, you reply 'Sure. I'll catch up with you later Armie.' He nods and walks away, but looks back at you, his face full of concern. 

Jake pulls you out of earshot of his gaggle of friends.  
'Look you didn't tell anyone did you? The police I mean. You didn't tell them you got it from me right? I've been going crazy, I'm meant to be going to Yale next year, I-'  
'No Jake. I didn't say where I got it.'  
'Thank fuck,' he breathes a sigh of relief. 'Oh and hey man, I totally wouldn't have given it to you if I'd known you were gonna...you know…'  
'It's fine, Jake. I live.'

You roll your eyes and walk off. Maybe coming back to school this year had been a stupid idea. But what was the alternative? You could barely stand being at home either. Not with Dad. Not now. 

You head inside and make your way to homeroom. Mrs Chambers gives you a pitying smile as you enter. You were fed up with people feeling sorry for you. What had happened had been your fault, your decision and now you had to live with the consequences. You didn’t need anyone’s sympathy. 

Mrs Chambers speeds through registration and the usual start of semester notices; various sports team tryouts, extra curricular clubs and a reminder that the Homecoming dance was only a few weeks away. She hands out timetables and you see that you have Chemistry first period. Fucking perfect. 

The bell rings and you gather up your timetable, shoving it into your bag. You head straight for the door, not wanting to hang around for the inevitable _how was your summer_ chit chat.

'Um sweetie? One minute. I want a quick word.' Mrs Chambers extends her arm in front of you, blocking the exit. Oh Jesus, not more of the pity parade.

'Sure.'  
'I just want you to know that I'm here for you. The school is here for you. If there's anything bothering you or-'  
'Honestly, I'm fine. I don't get why everyone is so worried about me.'  
'Mmmmhmmm. Of course.' She didn't sound convinced. 'And how did you find rehab?'  
You shrug. 'It was, you know, rehab.' What else could you say about it?  
'OK sweetie. Well, my door is always open if you want a chat.’ No chance of that ever happening. ‘And don’t forget your counselling sessions. Every thursday afternoon.'

'Great. Well, I best be going. Chemistry is calling my name!' Mrs Chambers raises an eyebrow at your over the top enthusiasm. You were fooling no one.

Late to your first lesson of the semester. Fantastic. Not exactly off to the good start you'd wanted. At least Miss Dillon was harmless enough. 

You swing the door open, about to make your apology. But it's not Miss Dillon standing at the front of the class. 

'Oh shit sorry, wrong classroom!'  
'You're not here for Chemistry then?' says the stranger, stopping you in your tracks.  
'Oh, um, yes, I am actually.'

Where was Miss Dillon? Surely this man couldn't be your teacher…  
'I'm Mr Ren,’ the stranger introduces himself. ‘I'll be taking Miss Dillon's classes this semester. Please, find a seat.'  
'What happened to her? Miss Dillon I mean?' you blurt out before you can stop yourself.  
The man before you raises an eyebrow, as if surprised by your question.  
'She had her baby...'

Oh. Yes. She'd been pregnant. You _knew_ that. With everything that had happened, sometimes it was difficult to remember that life simply....went on. 

You head to the very back of the classroom and sit down quietly. As if you needed to draw any more attention to yourself. The new teacher probably already thought you were the school nutjob. 

He's talking away now, but you have no idea what about. You weren't listening. You couldn't stop _looking_ at him. He was not your typical idea of a high school chemistry teacher. 

Mr Ren was tall, at least six foot, but not thin and wiry like your father. He looked strong; the sleeves of his white shirt dangerously tight around the biceps. He had dark, raven hair that sat in waves, perfectly framing his face and accentuating his strong jawline. His eyes were dark, almost hidden beneath a heavy brow and framed by a pair of angular glasses. As he spoke, you noticed how full and plump his lips were, and behind them, flashes of perfect, white teeth. 

For all intents and purposes, Mr Ren was, well...gorgeous. He wouldn’t look out of place on the cover of Vogue. _Not_ the sort of man you'd expect to find teaching high school Chemistry in small town Indiana. 

His looks have clearly not gone unnoticed by your peers, either. Kate and Jenna were already excitedly whispering and giggling to each other, their faces lighting up whenever Mr Ren vaguely glanced in their direction. How pathetic. 

'So I thought we'd start with a small pop quiz. Nothing too tedious, don't worry.' Mr Ren walks around the class, handing out papers. As he reaches your desk and passes you your quiz, you notice how large his hands are, making yours look child-like in comparison. He smiles down at you with a look of...what was that? Pity? You were certain he must’ve already been debriefed about you. 

You turn the paper over and spend longer than necessary writing your name elaborately at the top. That was the easy bit. You start to read the questions, but they might as well be written in mandarin. Chemistry had never been your best subject. But everything you’d learnt last year seemed to have fallen right out of your head. 

You could feel your palms growing sweaty, your heart beating faster in your chest. You felt clammy and claustrophobic, as if the walls of the classroom were closing in on you. Fuck. 

You had always struggled with anxiety, but over the last few weeks it had gotten a lot worse. Ever since the _incident._ You needed air. 

You slowly raise your hand. 'Um, Mr Ren?'  
He looks up from his laptop. 'Yes?'  
'Um, I er...need to go to the bathroom,' you stutter.  
'Can you wait until after the quiz?'  
'Not really, no.'  
He nods. 'Be quick then.' 

You walk quickly down the corridor, trying hard not to break into a full sprint. Once you were safely locked in a cubicle, you close your eyes and try to focus on taking deep breaths. Your heart was still pounding in your chest, your hands now drenched in sweat. You tried to imagine you were somewhere else. Anywhere else. 

You needed to get a grip. And fast. You had assured Principal McGowan that you were fine, that you were more than ready to come back to school. She had thought otherwise. You didn’t want to prove her right. 

Someone raps their knuckles on the cubicle door, making you jump. 'Hey it’s Jenna. You ok? Mr Ren sent me to check up on you.'  
'I'm fine. Coming back now.' You flush the toilet to keep up the façade. 'You go ahead, I'll be back in a minute.'  
'You sure? OK then…' you hear her footsteps moving away from the stall and then the toilet door swing open. 

You unlock the door cautiously, peaking your head out to check you are alone. The bathroom was empty. Good. You stand at the sink for a moment and splash your face with cold water. _Get a hold of yourself,_ you tell your reflection. Just as you are plucking up the courage to head back to class, the school bell goes. Shit. 

Left with no choice, you hurry back to the classroom and see it has emptied. Mr Ren is standing alone at his desk, sorting the pile of completed quizzes. 

'Oh...sorry, Mr Ren,’ you mumble. ‘I don't really have an excuse. I, um...suffer from panic attacks sometimes and well, let's just say I've not exactly had the easiest of years.'  
He smiles kindly at you. 'Don't worry about it. We all have off days. Look, if you ever need any extra help or support, my door is always open.'  
'Oh. Right. Thanks.' Why was he being so...nice? 

Mr Ren hands you your blank quiz. ‘Why don’t you take this, complete it in your own time? You can return it to me at the end of the day.’  
‘Sure. Will do.’ 

You make a swift exit out of the classroom. Could this day be any more of a disaster? One panic attack down and it was barely 11am. God only knows what Mr Ren probably thought of you. 


	2. First Impressions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr Ren has an interesting first day in his new job.

Kylo POV 

A fresh start was exactly what you needed. A new school, a new town. Somewhere no one knew you. Somewhere you could start again. You were more than ready to leave the past few months behind.

You gaze absent mindedly out of the window of your apartment, watching the rain hit the glass whilst you sip a coffee. It was a far cry from the home you once had, but it would do. For now.

You shower and then dress in a simple white button down shirt and dark suit pants, finished off with your usual leather belt. Understated, nothing extravagant; but classy. You took pride in your appearance; always ensuring you were clean shaven, shoes freshly polished and fingernails short and clean. As your father used to remind you on a frequent basis; _first impressions were everything._

You fasten your watch onto your wrist, give your hair one final brush through with a comb and throw on your usual worn leather jacket, before heading out the door. 

Jumping into your car, you immediately wind the window down and light a cigarette. You tried to be as healthy as possible; limiting red meat, ensuring you worked out at least three times a week. But smoking was your one and only vice. Riley had always hated it; she thought it was unattractive and dirty. Guess that didn't matter anymore. 

As you drive through the small town that was now your new home, you wonder what the day would bring. Starting out at a new school was never easy; hundreds of pupils you were expected to learn the names of, trying to navigate around an unfamiliar campus, small talk with colleagues you didn’t know or care about. It was an inconvenience, especially for someone like you. You didn’t enjoy feeling like a novice. You liked to be in control. 

You pull up to the school, parking your gray Mercedes in one of the designated staff bays. It was your pride and joy, and about the only thing you’d been able to hold on to during the divorce. 

Your immediate impression of Aurora High School was...underwhelming. It was a generic looking building, with little character. Some might even say depressing. There was nothing special about it; it was simply bricks and concrete. 

You head across the parking lot and into the main school reception, trying not to draw too much attention to yourself as groups of students began gathering outside. As you enter, you are greeted by a plump, friendly looking woman behind the desk, who gives you a welcoming smile. 

'Can I help you at all?'  
'Hi, yes. I'm looking for Principal McGowan. I'm the new chemistry teacher.'  
‘Of course, she’s been expecting you. Right this way.’ She leads you to the Principal's office and knocks lightly on the door, before pushing it open.

Sat behind the desk is a petite, red haired woman with freckled skin and bright blue eyes. She must be late 50s, early 60s maybe, but she was the sort of woman you could tell had been attractive in her youth. 

‘Claire McGowan.’ She stands, offering you her hand.‘ Please, have a seat.’ She gestures to the empty chair opposite. ‘We really are so happy to have you, Mr Ren.’  
‘The pleasure is all mine,’ you say with a smile. You notice her cheeks redden slightly in response.  
‘So, first period you have your senior class. Now, I did want to have a chat with you about a rather...delicate matter. One of your seniors, Y/N, there was an...incident... over the summer break.’

Principal McGowan has piqued your interest. ‘Oh? What kind of incident?’ you ask, intrigued.  
‘She overdosed. She told the police it was an accident, but..’  
‘You think it was a suicide attempt?’  
‘A cry for help at least. You see, her parents' marriage had just broke down. Her Mother had walked out without so much as leaving a note and her Father was in a bad way. I don’t think she could deal with it all.’  
‘Right, I see.’

Go to any high school in the United States and there was always a ‘troubled kid’. Whether it be drugs, teen pregnancy, mormon cults or just a general disregard for rules of any kind. These kids were usually loners; outcasts and nine times out of ten, the problems began at home. It was just your luck that Aurora High school’s problem teen was in your very first class.

‘I just thought you might need a heads up. You know, just in case. She’s been having counselling, but let’s just say she's still a bit...unstable.’  
‘I understand. Thank you for letting me know.’  
‘Well, I won’t keep you any longer, I’m sure you’re excited to get started.’ 

You find your classroom and place your laptop and books down on the desk, assessing your surroundings for a moment. It was much smaller than the classroom at your previous school, but beggars couldn't afford to be choosers right now. Riley had made sure of that. You’d have to make do. 

You begin preparing for your first class of seniors and all too soon the bell rings, signalling the start of first period. As your class gradually makes their way in to the room and fills the seats up, you mentally do a quick head count and realise you are one person short. You look at the clock. 9.05. You couldn’t wait all morning.

‘Good morning class. Let me introduce myself. My name is Mr Ren and I'll be taking over Miss Dillon’s classes this semester. I’m sure you can all remember what it’s like to be the new guy, so go easy on me.’ A couple of the students give a sympathetic laugh.

‘You’re seniors this year, so I intend to treat you as such. You’re not children; you don’t need someone to lecture you or spoon feed you. It's very simple; put in the work and you’ll do well. I expect you all to take responsibility for your own learning. Now then -’ 

You are interrupted as the door of the classroom swings open. Stood in the corridor is a girl, who looks at you with confusion.  
'Oh shit sorry, wrong classroom!' she babbles at high speed.  
'You're not here for Chemistry then?' You ask her.  
The whirlwind of a girl stops, her pale skin flushes slightly and she replies 'oh, yes I am actually.'  
'I'm Mr Ren. I'll be taking Miss Dillon's classes this semester. Please, find a seat,' you say, giving her a kind smile. 

She hesitates for a second, a puzzled expression creeping across her face.  
'What happened to her? Miss Dillon?'  
You raise an eyebrow, surprised by her question. You thought it had been common knowledge that she had been expecting.  
'She had her baby.'

As she heads to her seat, you realise this must be the girl Principal McGowan had forewarned you about. She didn't look the type to be involved with something so...serious. She was pretty; large almond shaped brown eyes and long dark hair that perfectly complemented her flawless, pale complexion. She was taller than average, yet lithe and delicate. Svelte, but not in an unhealthy way. 

As she walks away from you, you can't stop your gaze from wandering to her long, slender legs, which were accentuated by the shortness of her dress. Your cock twitches beneath your trousers. Jesus christ you needed to get laid. How long had it been? 6 months? And even before the separation, your sex life had been somewhat _lackluster._ I guess that’s to be expected when your wife is fucking your best friend. 

‘Er anyway, I thought it would be useful to see how much you could all remember after the summer break. So I thought we would start with a little pop quiz.’ Low groans echo around the room.  
‘Nothing too tedious, don’t worry.’ 

You begin to hand the papers out, desperately trying to ignore the infantile giggling from some of the more immature girls. You tended to have this affect on your female students. The simple fact that you were male and in your thirties was enough to set them off. 

You approach Y/N’s desk, passing her a paper. She smiles up at you as she takes it, dimples appearing in her soft, full cheeks. _Head out the gutter Kylo, jesus. She was nearly young enough to be your daughter for god's sake._

You sit back at your desk and open up your laptop in an attempt to distract yourself. Three new emails. Spam from an Internet dating site you'd signed up to, a notification from Facebook (one new friend request), and...fuck. One from Riley’s lawyer, with the subject banner titled: URGENT. Fucking perfect.

'Um Mr Ren?' You are immediately brought back to the classroom and look up from your computer screen. It was Y/N. Her hand was in the air.  
'Yes?'  
'Um, I, er...need to go to the bathroom,' she babbles at you. Her porcelain skin was now glowing red and sweaty. She looked uncomfortable and on edge.  
'Can you wait until after the quiz?  
'No, not really.'  
You nod. 'Be quick then.'

She stands, practically running out of the classroom. Was she ok? She didn’t look well. Maybe you should send someone after her, check she was alright. 

The minutes tick by and Y/N still hasn't returned to class. You were beginning to panic slightly. You didn't want any cock ups this early into your new job.

One of the girls -Jenna was it?- approaches your desk and you don’t miss the way she purposely swings her hips as she walks towards you.  
'All finished Mr Ren.' She gives you a sickly sweet smile as she hands you her paper. How nauseating.  
'Thanks. Listen do me a favour will you? Would you mind going to the girls bathroom and checking on Y/N? She seems to have been gone a long time.'  
'Sure thing. I wouldn't worry though, she's always been a bit...you know...odd,' she shrugs. 

Maybe you shouldn't have let her go off by herself. Unstable, that was the word Principal McGowan had used. She wouldn't _try_ anything though, would she? Surely not at school? That would be all you needed, a suicide attempt in your first class of the semester. 

The school bell goes just as Jenna walks back into the classroom...alone. Shit.  
'She's on her way back now.' _Thank fuck._  
'OK class, leave your papers on my desk on the way out.'  
Your students begin filing out. You pick up the abandoned paper of Y/N, adding it to the pile. She hasn't attempted to answer a single question. 

The door to your classroom opens again. Y/N looks at you bashfully and approaches your desk.  
'Oh er sorry, Mr Ren. I don't really have an excuse. I suffer from panic attacks sometimes and well, let's just say I've not exactly had the easiest of years.' _That was an understatement._

'Don't worry about it. We all have off days. Look, if you ever need any extra help or support, my door is always open.'  
'Oh. Right. Thanks.'  
You hand her the unfinished quiz, noticing how her name was written in an elaborate cursive in the top right corner. Maybe she should’ve taken art instead of chemistry.

‘Why don’t you take this, complete it in your own time? You can return it to me at the end of the day.’  
‘Sure. Will do,’ she says and stuffs it into her bag as she leaves the classroom. You’d never see that quiz paper again. 

Your first class at Aurora High had been interesting to say the least. And as for Y/N...she had left an impression on you, that was for certain. You just hoped she was ok.


	3. Talk of the School

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It seems Mr Ren is the name on everyone's lips, including yours.

Y/N POV

The school bell goes, finally signalling the start of your lunch break. Thank God. After your little hiccup first thing, the rest of the morning had gone smoothly enough, but you were _exhausted._

You’d spent the last couple of hours trying your best to fit in and keep a low profile. Engaging in small talk, asking people about their summer trips; anything to give the impression that you were, well...fine. 

But as you head into the school canteen, you find yourself desperately trying to ignore the whispers from other students that you can't help but overhear.  
'I can't believe she's actually come back.'  
'Apparently she was in a coma. For 2 _weeks_ '  
'Did you hear about what happened in chemistry? Jenna told me she had some kind of panic attack. Locked herself in the bathroom.'  
It seemed that no matter how hard you tried, gossip would always spread. 

You keep your head down as you grab your lunch and try to spot Armie in the sea of students. Eventually, you spot his mop of flame red hair on a far table. He's sitting by himself, and as usual, is buried in one of his comic books.

You walk over and slam your tray down hard on the table, making him jump.  
'Fuck! I wish you wouldn't do that!'  
'Lighten up Armie, jeez,' you laugh, making yourself comfortable on the bench opposite. 'Good morning?'  
'It was alright I guess. We're doing _To Kill A Mockingbird_ in English. Predictable, but I’ve read it three times, so at least I’m guaranteed a good grade. How was chemistry?'  
'It was...interesting. I've got a new teacher.'  
'Oh, that Mr Ren? I overheard Jessica talking about him. Apparently he's a _dreamboat._ '  
You roll your eyes. 'He seems, erm...nice.'

Armie looks at you with narrow eyes that are full of suspicion.  
'What? Why are you looking at me like that?' you ask.  
'Since when have you ever thought any of the teachers were nice?'  
You shrug 'Maybe I've turned over a new leaf.'  
Armie doesn’t buy it. 'You're not telling me something, I know you're not.'

He was right. Sometimes it was easy to forget just how well he knew you. You were purposely avoiding the subject of your recent panic attack and minor toilet meltdown. You knew it would worry him and then you'd be stuck listening to Armie’s lecture on how this was all too soon and how you should be at home. It was easier to just keep quiet. 

But it wasn't just that, either. You hated to admit it, but since this morning, your mind has been filled with the image of Mr Ren. There was something about him. His dimples when he smiled, his unusual hazel; almost amber eyes, the way his voice sounded when he said your name. Fuck.

He was a _teacher._ Were you really as sad and pathetic as the other girls in your class, who could barely look at him without drooling? 

At that exact moment, as if your thoughts were being read aloud, Mr Ren walks into the canteen. You can't help but stare across the room at him, zoning out completely from the conversation. 

'Hey, are you listening?' Armie asks frowning and clicking his fingers in front of your face. He follows your gaze and turns his head to see the source of your distraction.

'Hang on, is that him? The new chemistry teacher?'  
'Yep.'  
'Jesus, no wonder all the girls in this school are going crazy. How tall is he, like 6'5?'  
'Probably.' You were concentrating hard on remaining nonchalant. 

Armie wasn’t the only one who appeared impressed by Mr Ren. The gaggle of girls on the table next to yours are practically beside themselves with excitement. You catch snippets of their conversation.

‘I’d let him teach me a thing or two if you know what I mean…’  
‘He could tutor me after school _any_ day of the week…’  
‘Like seriously, are teachers even _allowed_ to be that attractive?’

It seemed Mr Ren was the talk of the school. You weren't surprised; with a population just shy of 4,000, any newcomer to your town was big news. And to be honest, you were somewhat glad that you weren't the topic of conversation for a change.

He’s stood in the queue now, fixated on his phone, hand moving quickly as he types. Probably his girlfriend. Or wife. Was he married? _It’s none of your business,_ you have to remind yourself.

Suddenly, he lets out a long sigh and runs his hand through his dark hair with a look of frustration, before shoving his phone back into his trouser pocket. 

He looks up and as he turns his head, ends up glancing in your direction. You’re still looking at him and you briefly make eye contact. You break your gaze, quickly looking down at your food, embarrassed that he has caught you. He must think you’re a complete freak, especially after this morning. You can feel your face going red. You try to focus on something, _anything_ but him. 

Armie is watching you and raises an eyebrow.  
'Are you ok?'  
'Yes. Fine. Why wouldn't I be?' you say, brushing him off.  
'Dunno. You're acting...weird.' 

Before you can respond, someone slams a garish, brightly coloured flyer down on the table in front of you. You can just make out the word HOMECOMING blazoned in large letters across the top. Please God _no._

You look up and sure enough, Olivia Reynolds, head of the Homecoming Committee, is standing before you, hand on tiny hip, smirk across her beautiful face.

She fit the stereotype of popular, preppy, cheerleader down to a tee. Long blonde hair, flawless tanned skin, rich, successful parents and a boyfriend who possessed more muscle than brain cells.

She'd also made your first two years of high school a living nightmare. She was a bully and had tried her hardest to make you an outcast. It was just childish teasing, that’s what your Mom had told you. That she’d grow out of it soon enough. She did; of course, but by then the damage was already done. Your only friend, _real_ friend to this day was Armie. She had succeeded in turning most of your year against you.

'Hey guys, just a reminder that the Homecoming dance is only 3 weeks away! This year's theme is _Casino Royale,_ so make sure you dress to impress! And don't forget, as we're seniors this year, everyone is expected to attend. Even _you_ Y/N.' 

You roll your eyes at Armie, who tries to stifle his sniggers and ends up snorting into his coke. The homecoming dance was the very last place you'd want to spend a Saturday night. It was everything you hated; a popularity contest, a way for people like Olivia to show how much _better_ and _richer_ they were than everyone else. 

'Wouldn't miss it for the world,' you say, reluctantly taking a flyer.  
'Perfect,' Olivia replies, apparently unable to recognise the sarcasm in your voice.

'You should come you know,' Armie says as Olivia saunters off back to her gang of cheerleader cronies. 'You might have actually fun.'  
'I'll consider it. I'm not making any promises.' 

The school bell goes. You and Armie pick your trays up, decanting the remains of your lunch into a nearby bin.

'Where are you off to this afternoon?’ he asks.  
'I've got a free period. Actually, shit you've just reminded me. I better go to the library; I told Mr Ren I'd finish his pop quiz.'  
Without missing a beat, Armie replies, 'Why didn't you finish in class? The quiz I mean.'  
Fuck. 'Oh, er...I guess I just ran out of time.'  
'Right.' 

'So what about you?' you ask, changing the subject as quickly as possible.  
'Math. A subject that should be illegal on a Monday afternoon. I'll meet you later in our usual spot?'  
'Sure.' 

You look around, trying to see where Mr Ren has got to, but realise he must be long gone. You hoped the next hour would go quickly. You were ashamed to admit it, but you were sort of looking forward to seeing him again.


	4. Attracting Attention

Kylo POV

As the hands on the clock in your classroom finally reach midday, your stomach is now growling with hunger. You had survived your first morning at Aurora High School without any major issues. Your colleagues were pleasant and welcoming, the majority of your pupils willing and ready to learn. 

You have however, been somewhat distracted, ever since first period. Something, or should you say _someone_ was playing on your mind.

You couldn't stop thinking about Y/N. Not in a creepy or weird way of course, but something about her intrigued you. You were trying to understand what would push a girl like her to do something so _drastic._

Yes, her parent's marriage had come to an end and you knew all too well how messy divorce could be, especially when there was kids involved. But to try and take her own life? Seemed a little extreme. Something didn't quite add up. 

Usually, you found that you could read people easily. It was one of your more _useful_ talents. You were sociable, charming, you found that people quickly became putty in your hands. It sounded big headed to say, but it was true. And you played it to your advantage. 

But not her. She was a closed book. A mystery. An enigma. And you wanted to know more.

The lunch bell finally goes and your class disperses. You make your way down the corridor to the school canteen, trying to distract yourself with the thought of food. Your belly gurgles again in response. 

The canteen is already packed with students, groups split into the usual stereotypical cliques present in most high schools. 

Clusters of burly looking jocks surrounded by pretty girls in cheerleader uniforms. The alternative, emo crowd dressed predominantly in black, their eyes heavy with dark makeup. The group of stoners you had seen smoking outside school that morning. You wondered about Y/N. Which group did she fall into?

As you join the back of the queue, you can feel dozens of pairs of eyes watching you. It was to be expected, you supposed. You were the new guy and bound to attract attention. Give it a couple of weeks and things would settle down. You would be old news.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, grabbing your attention. As you remove it, a message from Riley pops up on the screen.

_Hey asshole, feel like responding to my lawyer's email? We need to set a hearing date._

As charming as ever, Riley. You reply _Sure. Will respond tonight._ and shove your phone back into the pocket of your trousers, the elation from a successful morning's teaching rapidly disappearing. Did she always have to be such a...bitch? 

She loved to act like this entire situation was your fault, like you'd brought it upon yourself. _She_ was the one who had lied and cheated. She had betrayed you, not the other way round. What had she expected? For you to just roll over and take it?

You think back to that day. Finding them, finding _him_ in your bed. How could they? How could they do that to you? You can feel the anger brewing up inside you again. You tried to focus on what your therapist had taught you. _Deep breaths. Calm thoughts._

You run a hand through your hair, feeling frustrated and glance across the canteen. You instantly lock eyes with Y/N. She's sat on a far table, with an auburn haired boy. A boyfriend maybe? He's chatting away, but she doesn't seem to be listening to him. She's staring across the room. Right at you. 

For a moment, you stare back into her big, brown eyes. They seem to bore right through you, as if they were looking deep into your soul. 

She suddenly breaks her gaze and quickly looks down at the table, cheeks flushing with colour. Had she been staring at you long, you wonder. She seemed embarrassed that you had caught her. You can’t help but smile at that thought. 

She was probably just curious like everyone else. But still...you couldn't help but feel flattered. Was it wrong to want the attention of one of your students? _Yes, you fucking creep. Of course it was._

You quickly grab your lunch and head back to the teachers lounge, trying to keep her out of your thoughts. 

As you enter, one of your new colleagues is addressing the room. You silently slide into a chair, not wanting to draw too much attention to yourself.

She was petite and relatively plain, but pretty. Girl next door kind of looks. Not your type exactly, but attractive nonetheless. The topic of conversation appears to be the upcoming Homecoming Dance. 

‘So this year’s theme, as chosen by our Homecoming Committee is _Casino Royale._ Actually, we could really do with some more hands to help out if anyone is willing to give up their Saturday evening?’ She looks in your direction, giving you a broad smile. Fuck. ‘Mr Ren? What do you say, care to join us?'

You swallow down your half chewed bite of sandwich and clear your throat. ‘Er...sure. Why not. I’d be more than happy to.’

A high school dance wasn't exactly your idea of fun, but it wasn’t like you had anything better to do. And showing willing was important when you were the new guy. 

‘Perfect.’ You didn’t think it possible, but her smile gets even bigger. 

As the discussion ends and people get back to their lunches, she walks across the room and sits down next to you.

‘Sorry, haven’t had a chance to introduce myself yet. I’m Hannah. Hannah Phillips. I teach biology.’  
‘Nice to meet you Hannah. Kylo.’ You offer her your hand, which she grabs with a little too much enthusiasm.  
‘Kylo? Interesting name.’  
‘My Mother was Dutch.’  
‘Wow, how....unusual. So, are you new to Aurora?’  
‘Yes, I’ve just moved here.’ You knew she was only trying to be friendly, but you hated feeling like you were being interrogated.  
‘Fancied a change of scenery?’  
‘Divorce, actually.’  
‘Oh. Oh shit, I’m so sorry. I didn't realise.' 

Hannah’s voice was sympathetic, but you couldn’t help but notice the way her eyes lit up at the mention of your marital status. 

‘It’s fine. You weren’t to know.’  
‘Well anyway, it’s great to have you here, especially as part of the Science Department. If you need anything whilst you're still settling in, don't hesitate to let me know.'

Hannah was looking at you with an expression that was all too familiar. You’d seen it countless times. Women in bars, waitresses, store clerks. Everywhere you went people seemed to fall under your spell. But you knew better than to mix work with pleasure. 

You manage a polite smile in return.  
‘Oh and thanks so much for volunteering to help out at the homecoming dance. You really are a life saver.’  
‘Not a problem. Happy to.’

There is an awkward pause in the conversation, which you take as your cue to leave. 'Anyway, I better be off. Need to set the lab up for this afternoon.' 

It was a painfully obvious excuse, but you couldn’t bear any more of this monotonous small talk. You’d have to remember to avoid the teacher's lounge from now on.


	5. Distractions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You return to Mr Ren's classroom after school and find it difficult to concentrate on your Chemistry quiz.

Y/N POV

As you head back to Mr Ren's classroom at the end of the day, you begin to feel sick with nerves. You had spent your free period staring at your quiz, struggling to write a single answer. What if he thought you were stupid? Or lazy? You were already mortified at the thought. You didn’t want to disappoint him. Again.

In the end, you had quickly scribbled down a few rushed notes as the bell went. You knew Mr Ren would be waiting for you.

You arrive back at his classroom and take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. As you knock on the door, you notice the palms of your hands are already sweating. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe you should just leave, apologise to Mr Ren tomorrow and say you forgot.

'Come in,' a deep voice responds. Too late.

You tentatively push the door open. Mr Ren is sitting at his desk, his gaze focused on the screen of his laptop. He looks up at you as you enter, his scowl breaking into a broad smile.

'Ah, Y/N. I was starting to think you weren't going to show.'  
'Sorry to keep you, Mr Ren. I've ah, got my paper for you.'  
You place it down on the desk in front of him.

'Great. Well, why don't you have a seat for a minute? I'll grade it for you now.' Ah _shit._

'Oh. OK, sure.' You grab a chair, sitting down on the opposite side of the desk to face him. 'One minute, just need to message Armie.' You pull out your cell phone.

 _Mr Ren wants to grade my paper. You go on without me, chat later?_ You click send. 

Mr Ren is watching you with interest and raises an eyebrow.  
'Boyfriend?' he asks.  
'What, Armie?' you laugh, the idea both comical and ridiculous. ' _Best_ friend yes, but definitely not boyfriend. More like a brother.' 

'I see.' Mr Ren smiles at you as he begins reading through your paper. A smile that quickly disappears, and soon turns into a deep set frown. Crap.

He puts down your paper and looks up at you over his glasses. 'Can I ask you something? Did you actually _try_ to answer the questions? Or did you just write anything down?'

You could feel your face growing red, the hot prickle of heat creeping up the back of your neck. Unable to make eye contact with him, you stare down at your hands in your lap.  
‘I-I erm, well-’ you stammer. 

Mr Ren interrupts your feeble attempt at an explanation.  
'Look, this question for example. It’s really quite straightforward. Hang on.' He picks up his chair, causing his shirt to strain tightly over his biceps. He carries it round the desk with ease, before putting it down right next to you.

Placing your quiz down on the desk between you, he begins going through question one. 

'C2H4 is actually ethylene so…'

You try your hardest to focus on what Mr Ren was saying, but this was proving difficult. It was as if your mind had clouded over, your thoughts gravitating to one thing and one thing only. Him.

He was so close, barely an inch from you, your arms nearly touching. You could smell the deep, woody scent of his cologne, masculine and robust. It wasn’t overpowering and musky like your Fathers. It smelt _expensive._

You study his face and could count each dark freckle splattered across his porcelain skin. It was perfect, flawless; his complexion complementing the waves of his dark hair beautifully.

Your eyes travel down his body, taking him all in. The top few buttons of his shirt are undone and you can just about see a flash of his bare chest. You notice how tight his suit pants were on his thighs as he sat, almost straining at the seams. Fuck.

You have obviously zoned out completely, because Mr Ren has stopped talking and is looking at you. You immediately snap out of your day dream.  
'Are you ok?' he asks, a quizzical look in his eyes.  
'Fuck, I'm sorry, I erm..missed that last bit. God, you must think I’m completely useless,' you exclaim, putting your head in your hands. You felt pathetic and stupid. 

'Of course I don’t think you’re useless. The exact opposite in fact. You’ve had an extremely difficult year and I understand that this has had an impact on your studies and grades.’

Mr Ren pauses, as if considering something for a moment. ‘You know, if you wanted, I can give you some extra help to catch up. Maybe once a week, after school? If that’s something you’d be interested in.'

You turn to look at Mr Ren in surprise. 'Really? Why are you being so...nice to me?' He seemed genuine, too. Like he really cared. All you’d received today was looks of pity and fake concern from teachers who didn’t truly give two shits if you were back at school or not. 

He reaches out and places a firm hand on your shoulder. His touch feels like electricity, instantly sending shivers down your spine. 

'I'm your teacher. It's my job to look out for my students. I want to do everything I can to support you. I promise, it will get better.' 

He gently strokes the top of your arm in a comforting way. His warm hand feels heavy on your petite frame, his grip large and strong. For a moment, you both remain quiet. Mr Ren simply looks at you, studying your face as if you are a puzzle he’s trying to solve. Then after what feels like a lifetime, he finally breaks the silence.

‘Anyway, why don’t we leave it for tonight. I’m sure you’ve got plenty of things you’d rather be doing.’ He removes his arm from around your shoulder and begins tidying his desk.

‘No, not really,' you state. Your social life wasn’t exactly exciting these days.  
Mr Ren looks at you awkwardly, like he doesn’t know what to say. ‘Right. Well, I erm...need to get on with some marking. We can continue after Friday’s lesson?’

‘Yep. Sounds great.’ Flunking chemistry was not ideal. But more time with Mr Ren? Alone? Your stomach does a little flip.

You pause at the door on your way out of the classroom. ‘Have a good evening Mr Ren.’  
He grins in response. ‘Thanks. You too.’ 

_What a day,_ you think to yourself as you make the short walk from school back home. You’d expected it to be challenging. You knew you’d be the focus of gossip. But Mr Ren...he was certainly a factor you had not anticipated.

You had felt something as you had sat in his classroom, his hand on your shoulder. You had felt something between you as you had stared into his hazel eyes. An almost palpable energy; like static electricity when you had touched. You wondered if he had felt it too. _Don’t be stupid._

You arrive home and slam the front door shut. Dad is lying on the couch, empty beer cans littering the floor, old superbowl reruns blasting out of the TV. Fantastic. 

'Hey Dad,' you say, chucking your bag down and kicking off your docs.  
'Oh, hey honey. How was school?' He doesn’t look away from the screen.  
'It was ok, I guess.'  
'Any plans for your evening?'  
'Just homework. Nothing exciting.'

You head into the kitchen, fixing yourself a quick PB&J sandwich, which you wolf down in a couple of bites. You grab a Dr Pepper from the fridge and then make your way up to your room, collapsing straight onto the bed, exhausted. Your phone vibrates. It's Armie.

_How was your evening with Mr Ren ;)_

_Very funny. I'm flunking chemistry already. He's going to give me some extra help._

_Flunking after one day? That must be a record, even for you._

You switch your phone off, throwing it on your bedside table. You felt bad, but honestly couldn’t be bothered replying to Armie right now. Your first day back at school had pretty much drained all of your sociability. Who knew making small talk was such hard work. 

You grab your laptop and settle in, flicking on an episode of _The Office._ You’ve seen it dozens of times, but found it comforting and familiar, like an old friend. Within minutes however, you can feel your eyelids growing heavy. 

_You are sitting in class, but something isn’t quite right. Where was everyone? The classroom is deserted. You are completely alone. Except for one other person._

_Mr Ren is leaning against his desk at the front of the room, an...odd look in eyes. He's never looked at you like that before. You can’t quite figure out exactly what it means._

_'Come here,' he instructs and beckons you with his fingers._  
_You hesitate, trying to make sense of what was happening. 'Sorry, what?'  
'Don't make me ask again. Come. Here.'_

_You oblige and stand from your seat. As you walk slowly towards him, he removes his glasses, resting them down on the table._

_Your heart is pounding in your chest, the feeling of anticipation spreading through you as you wondered what was going to happen next._

_As you come to a stop in front of him, he whispers 'Good girl.'_

_Mr Ren snakes his hands around your hips, his fingers playing with the waistband of your jeans. He slips them through your belt loops and pulls you in closer to him._

_You start to panic. What the hell was he doing? What if someone saw? You glance at the door of the classroom, imagining what would happen if someone walked in._

_'Relax,' Mr Ren tells you, as if he knows exactly what you are thinking. He leans in closer and gently tucks your hair over one shoulder, stroking the side of your face with the back of his hand. Then, he brings his lips to your exposed ear, so close you can feel his warm breath on your cheek and quietly whispers_

_'I'm going to fuck you now, baby girl. I'm going to make you mine.'_

BEEP BEEP BEEP 

Your eyes spring open in the dark. You felt disoriented, confused, unsure of what was happening and where you were. 

You see the bright red numbers on your alarm clock flashing, telling you it was time to get up. You were lying on top of your bed, still in yesterday’s clothes, your laptop at your feet. You must have drifted off to sleep. It had all been a dream. 

_Of course_ it had been a dream. It was laughable actually, that you could even think for a second it had been real. Like Mr Ren would ever be interested in someone like you. You were his student, nothing more. You needed to remember that.

You roll over, wishing you could stay in bed and go back to sleep. It had all _felt_ so real. His hands on your skin, the way he had grabbed you with urgency and need, the lust in his eyes as he whispered _baby girl._

The sudden throbbing in your groin forces you to get out of bed. You needed to shake these thoughts. You needed to focus on your grades. Becoming obsessed with your new teacher was definitely _not_ something that should be on your to do list.


	6. Dangerous Behaviour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You knew what you were doing was wrong. But you couldn't help yourself.

Kylo POV

You glance down at your watch. It’s 3.10. The school bell has gone, your last class of the day has finally disappeared, but still no sign of Y/N. Has she forgotten? Or did she simply have somewhere better to be? 

You flip your laptop open, trying to distract yourself. Your facebook page pops up on the screen, immediately exhibiting the lives of people you cared very little about. Acquaintances, ex colleagues, old college friends you’d not seen for years. And Riley of course. It seemed there was no escaping her. She loved to pretend her life was perfect, purposely filtering out the shit show that you knew was going on behind the scenes.

What about Y/N? She must be here somewhere, high schoolers these days were obsessed with social media. You hover over the search bar and quickly type her name, but pause before pressing enter. Was this...ok? It was innocent enough, wasn't it? Stop overthinking it. You weren’t doing any harm. You click the search button.

Her profile appears on your screen, filling it with an image of her and an older couple you assumed were her parents. It looks like they were on holiday and Y/N looks considerably younger. Must be an old photo. _Happier times,_ you can't help but think.

Unable to stop yourself, you click on the header titled _photos._ No results. Her page must be completely private. 

Someone knocks on the classroom door. Shit. You quickly click the cross in the corner of your web browser, closing it down and hiding the evidence of your recent activity. 

‘Come in,’ you respond. Y/N pokes her head cautiously round the door, before slowly pushing it open and approaching your desk. You are pleasantly surprised to see her, having been convinced she wouldn’t turn up. 

'Ah, Y/N. I was starting to think you weren't going to show.' Her cheeks turn crimson.  
'Sorry to keep you, Mr Ren. I've ah, got my paper for you.' 

She places her crumpled paper down in front of you.  
'Great. Well, why don't you have a seat for a minute? I'll grade it for you now.' You gesture to the seat opposite your desk. Y/N hesitates, her eyes widening as if she had not been expecting your response.

'Oh. OK, sure. One minute, just need to message Armie.' She pulls a cell phone out of her bag and begins quickly typing.

Armie? Who the hell was Armie? That red haired boy she was with at lunch? Before you can stop yourself, your curiosity gets the better of you and you ask ‘Boyfriend?’

She laughs as if your question is completely ludicrous. 'What, Armie? _Best_ friend yes, but definitely _not_ boyfriend. More like a brother.' 

You give her a small smile, trying to remain composed, but inside you felt an overwhelming sense of relief. _Why?_ Why did you care so much? She was entitled to have a boyfriend, she was entitled to do whatever she wanted outside of school. What went on in her private life was her business and nothing to do with you. You are her teacher. 

You bring your attention back to her paper and begin reading through the answer to question one. It was wrong. Number two. Definitely wrong. Number three. Not even bothered to answer. The rest of her quiz followed a similar pattern. It was disappointing; you’d hoped for more. 

She’s watching you nervously, as if she knows what's coming next.  
'Can I ask you something? Did you actually try to answer the questions? Or did you just guess?'

Y/N looks sheepishly down at her lap, her face turning red and telling you all you needed to know. It was frustrating; you’d seen her grades from last year, you knew she was more than capable if she put the effort in. 

But you wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. With everything that had happened to her over the summer, you could see why studying may not have been her number one priority. 

‘I-I erm, well-’ she begins. You didn’t want to hear excuses. You stop her before she can carry on.  
'Look, this question for example. Hang on.' You pick your chair up and move it round the desk, so you can sit down right next to her.

You start at question number one, the synthesis of ethylene. Should be simple enough.  
'C2H4 is actually ethylene so…'

As you are talking, you realise just how close in proximity you are to Y/N. Your arms are almost touching, practically brushing past each other. The scent of her perfume fills your nose, floral and sweet, like honey. It’s intoxicating.

You look down at the table and notice how dainty her hands are, feminine and elegant, folded neatly over one another. Each long finger was painted a dark purple colour and decorated with an intricate silver ring. But you don’t fail to miss the faded white scars on her wrists. 

She reaches a hand up and tucks her dark hair behind one ear, exposing her long, porcelain neck and soft jawline. You wanted to touch her, to feel the heat of her skin beneath your fingers. The blood pumping through her veins as you wrap your hand around her delicate throat.  
_Enough. Focus Kylo, for fucks sake._

You bring your attention back to the question, however it seems Y/N has glazed over herself. Was she still listening to you? She wasn't looking at the paper, she was gazing off across the room, the very slightest of smiles on her face.

'Are you ok?' you ask.  
She snaps out of her daydream, blinking at you. God, were you really that boring you couldn't even hold her attention for a couple of minutes?

'Fuck, I'm sorry, I erm..missed that last bit. You must think I’m completely useless.’ She puts her head in her hands, visibly frustrated with herself.

‘Of course I don’t think you’re useless. The exact opposite in fact. You’ve had an extremely difficult year and I understand that this has had an impact on your studies and grades.’

What she needed was support. A helping hand to get her back on track.  
‘You know, if you wanted, I can give you some extra help to catch up. Maybe once a week, after school? If that’s something you’d be interested in.'

Y/N looks up at you. 'Why are you being so...nice to me?'  
You could see her eyes filling with tears. Was she really that unfamiliar with simple kindness? Cautiously, you extend your arm, placing your hand on her shoulder and doing your best to be of some comfort.

You feel her body tense up beneath you. Fuck, were you making her uncomfortable? You didn’t want her to get the wrong idea.

'I'm your teacher,’ you remind her. And yourself. ‘It's my job to look out for my students. I know you've had a tough year, and I'm trying to do everything I can to support you. I promise, it will get better.' 

You lightly rub the top of her shoulder, trying to ignore the obvious bump of her bra strap as your fingers glide over it. You watch her for a moment, trying to figure out what was going on behind those beautiful, sad eyes. She stares straight back at you, but remains silent. For a minute you both sit, just watching one another. It’s not awkward; the silence is comfortable, peaceful almost. 

You eventually clear your throat and withdraw your arm. 'Anyway, why don’t we leave it for tonight. I’m sure you’ve got plenty of things you’d rather be doing.' 

‘No, not really,' she sniffs.  
‘Right. Well, I erm...need to get on with some marking. We can continue after Friday’s lesson?’  
‘Yep. Sounds great,’ she says, packing up her things. On her way out of the classroom she stops at the door and turns back to you. ‘Have a good evening Mr Ren.’

‘Thanks. You too.’ You watch her leave and immediately let out a breath of relief. Getting close to a student like that, having those thoughts; you needed to be careful. Not that you would ever act on it of course. You weren’t completely stupid.

And yet, when she stared back into your eyes, you’d felt a connection. A deep understanding and familiarity between the two of you. Almost like you’d known each other for years. Had she felt it too? 

You shake your head, almost laughing at how ridiculous it all sounds. You pack up your things and head home for the day.

You flick on the light switch in your apartment and dump your things by the door. What a day. You felt completely drained, both physically and mentally. You head to the bathroom, immediately strip off and turn the shower on. 

The warm water cascades over your body and feels like bliss on your skin. You could feel your muscles relaxing and becoming loose, the pressure of the water gently massaging every inch of your body. You lather up the soap, running it across your shoulders and chest, then down your abs and torso. 

Your hand brushes over your cock, coating it in the soapy suds. It jerks at your touch, desperate for attention. You gently stroke it again. Mmmm, it feels _good._ You can feel the blood rushing to your groin, your erection growing in response to the sudden stimulation.

You wrap your palm around your length, sliding it slowly up and down, the water from the shower serving as lubricant and keeping it slippery and wet. 

Your mind wanders to Y/N. Her delicious scent, the almost palpable energy between you as your arms had almost touched. _Fuck._ This was wrong. You shouldn’t. You know you shouldn’t.

But you can't help yourself. You can't stop thinking about her.

You grip your cock tightly, squeezing your shaft as you jerk it and running your hand all the way from the base to the very tip.

You think about her smile and the way she had looked at you. Her deep, mesmerising, chocolate eyes. The soft, perky breasts hidden beneath her dress. The way her nimble fingers would feel wrapped around your dick. 

You run your thumb right around the head, coating it with leaking precum. _Shit._ You wanted her. You desired her. You wanted to run your hands over her skin and feel every single curve. Bury your face in her hair, hear your name on her lips.

You can feel your climax approaching, your arousal reaching new heights. Your hand starts to move faster around your cock whilst the other reaches down, giving your balls a light squeeze. It sends you over the edge.

‘Holy fuck!' you shout out as you come undone and pleasure erupts within you. Ribbons of hot cum spurt out of the end of your cock, hitting the glass of the shower door. You imagine it coating her pretty face as she kneels before you. Begging for it. 

Your hand eventually slows, squeezing the last few drops of cum onto the shower basin. You wash yourself off under the running water. 

As your orgasm wears off, you begin to feel guilty. And...dirty. What the fuck were you playing at? She was a student. Your student. And what, seventeen, eighteen tops? You were double her age for god's sake.

You get out of the shower, wrap a towel around your waist and head to the kitchen, grabbing a beer from the fridge. You flick the TV on, settling on a mindless comedy you’d already seen a handful of times. Anything to keep your thoughts away from...her.

You needed to stop acting like some sort of obsessive, infatuated creep. This kind of behaviour was dangerous. And far from normal.


	7. A Chance Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next day, you encounter the very last person you wanted to see right now.

Y/N POV

You greet Armie before school with a smile, but inside you are still reeling from last night's dream. The image of Mr Ren, leaning against his desk with lust in his eyes, was proving impossible to shake. What you were finding more concerning however, was that you didn’t _want_ to shake it.

‘You ok? Man, you look tired,’ Armie observes as he meets you. As per usual, he instantly picks up on the smallest details. He really was far too perceptive for his own good and knew when something was off. 

‘I’m fine, honestly,’ you lie. Your late night fantasy was definitely _not_ something you needed to share. Especially with him.

‘And you never text me back.’  
‘Sorry, I had a lot of homework to do. Plus I was exhausted. Must’ve fallen asleep early.’  
‘Mmmhmm. Ok. Sure.’

Armie gives you a look that tells you he’s far from convinced by your excuse. But nevertheless, he drops it. He knew when to stop pushing you.

‘So, when’s your next hot date with Mr Ren?’ he teases, winking at you.  
‘Ha ha ha. Hilarious,’ you retort and give his arm a shove, trying to ignore the sudden increase in heart rate you were experiencing. ‘After our lesson on Friday.’  
‘Spending all this time with the new teacher...people will start talking.’  
You roll your eyes. ‘He just wants to help me. Which is more than I can say for most people in this place. Hey, where are you going?’

You have reached school and as usual, were heading in the direction of your locker. Armie on the other hand, seems to be gravitating towards the school gym. 

‘Track tryouts are today. Thought I’d get in some last minute practice before first period.’ Armie was a keen long distance runner and physically, was perfect for it. Tall and slender, long, toned legs and a lengthy stride. Every year he had tried out. And hadn’t made the team once. 

‘I’ll catch you later?’ he calls back at you.  
‘Sure. Good luck!’ you try to sound enthusiastic, but were already thinking of what to say when he was inevitably disappointed again. 

As you walk away from him and through the school entrance, you immediately shove your headphones into your ears. Armie was like your safety net and without him, you felt exposed. You didn’t want anyone to bother you. You wanted to be left alone.

You head down the corridor and try to keep a low profile, avoiding eye contact with the people you pass. 

You eventually reach your locker and swing it open to grab your books, absent mindedly bobbing your head and humming away to the music blaring out of your headphones. 

Stupidly, you aren't paying attention to your surroundings. You shut your locker and turn around, heading for home room.

SMACK. You walk right into someone in the corridor, your books falling out of your arms and onto the floor with a loud thud. You blink, confused and disoriented, trying to work out what had just happened. 

You gaze up at the figure you have just collided with. And then you realise. It was Mr Ren. The exact person you really didn’t want to encounter right now. 

You can already feel your face glowing as you can’t help but think back to your dream. His hands all over your body, his lips at your ear telling you _exactly_ what he wanted to do to you. Fuck. This was not good.

He looks up from his phone, apparently as startled as you are.  
You pull one headphone out of your ear.  
‘Shit, Mr Ren I’m so sorry! I- I wasn’t looking where I-I didn’t mean to-’ you stutter, bending down to retrieve your textbooks from the floor. Jesus, did you always have to be such a clutz? How many times would you embarrass yourself in front of him?

‘It was my fault. I wasn’t looking where I was going. Here, let me.’ Mr Ren leans over to grab your books and in the process, your hands connect for a second, the tips of your fingers lightly brushing his. 

You feel an instant rush, like electricity coursing through your veins. His touch was heat; it was fire and had ignited something deep within you. A burning desire.

No, it was much more than a want. It was a desperate _need._

In that moment, you knew. You needed him. You needed to feel his touch again, all over your body. 

Mr Ren looks up and straight into your eyes, his expression a mix of both fascination and bewilderment. Was it possible that he could feel it too? Surely not.

You sharply pull your hand away and straighten up, trying to act as natural as possible. But inside your heart was pounding in your chest, your palms tingling with the sudden rush of adrenaline. 

‘Er, there you go.’ Mr Ren looks flustered as he hands you back your things. On top of the pile of books and papers is the Homecoming Flyer Olivia had given you the day before. He points it out.

‘Ah, the homecoming dance. Bet you can’t wait.’  
You can’t help but let out a laugh. ‘To be honest, I don’t think I’ll be going. It’s not really my sort of thing.’

Mr Ren looks surprised at your response. ‘Oh really? That’s a shame. I mean- you know, a shame for you. It is your senior year after all. You don’t want to miss out.’ He looks oddly uncomfortable. Weird. 

‘Hey is that The Strokes?’ he asks, changing the subject and pointing at your dangling headphone, which is still blasting music.  
‘Yeah. They’re my favourite.’  
‘Mine too. I’ve seen them live actually, Coachella 2002.’ Mr Ren laughs, flashing his perfect white teeth at you. ‘Wow, guess I’m really showing my age.’

You were barely listening. He looked so gorgeous when he smiled. His face lit up, making him seem younger and carefree, and deep set dimples appeared on either side of his plump lips.

The school bell goes, interrupting your daydream and bringing you sharply back to reality.  
‘I better go,’ you tell Mr Ren. ‘Can’t be late to any more of my classes. I guess I’ll see you Friday.’  
‘Yes, of course. See you then.’ You leave him standing alone in the corridor, a perplexed expression on his face.

The morning passes by in a blur and once again, all you can think about is Mr Ren. There was no denying what you had felt when your hands had touched. And his reaction...could it be possible that he wanted you too? Maybe it wasn't such a ridiculous notion as you'd first thought.

Before you know it, it’s 1pm. Time for your session with the school counsellor, Ryan. He was nice enough, if not somewhat pathetic. Desperate to be liked, trying to act like more of a _friend_ than a member of staff who was literally getting paid to listen to your problems. 

You knock on his office door, wanting nothing more than to turn around and walk away.  
‘Come in,’ his voice invites you. ‘Ah Y/N! Good to see you,’ he says as you push the door open and take a seat opposite him.  
‘Er, thanks.’ You wish you could say the same to him.

'So, I thought we could use these sessions to check in on how you’re feeling being back in school and if we can do anything more to support you.’  
‘Right. Great.’ You don’t even bother to hide the lack of enthusiasm in your voice.

Ryan says nothing, but looks at you expectantly, waiting for you to continue. You remain silent, not wanting to take the bait.

Eventually he cracks. ‘So tell me, how _have_ you been feeling?'  
‘Fine. Honestly, I don’t even think I need these sessions. I’m wasting your time.’  
‘So...you didn’t have a panic attack in class yesterday then?’

Shit. He’d been tipped off. ‘Well, I mean not like a full blown panic attack but-’  
‘Do you think you’re coping? Don’t you think this might have all been a bit too...soon?’  
‘No, I don’t. This is what I need. To just get on with things. Sitting at home won’t do me any good.’

‘But you can’t just pretend what happened to you this summer didn’t happen. What you went through was traumatic. It’s normal that it’s still affecting you.’  
‘I know that. I’m not trying to pretend anything. I just find it easier to cope when I’m distracted. Busy. I can’t just sit at home all day, I’ll go crazy.’

‘And how are things at home? With your father? I understand things have been hard for him since your Mom left.’ That was putting it lightly.

You sigh. ‘Not great. I mean, it’s fine but...he’s a shell of the person he was. It’s like my Dad has gone and been replaced with a shitty Walmart version. He’s depressed. He drinks. A lot. He’s not exactly fun to be around.’

‘Mmmhmm, I can see why that would be difficult. Have you thought about hurting yourself again?’  
‘No.’  
‘What about drugs? Are you still sober?’  
‘Yes.’  
‘Good. Well, maybe some sort of extra curricular activity would be good for you if you want to keep busy. How would you feel about that? Any clubs or societies you’d be interested in?’

‘Not really, no. I’m not exactly keen on group activities.’ Poor Ryan. You really weren’t helping him. Counselling you must be like trying to get blood from a stone.  
‘Have a think about it at least. It might help.’

You manage a polite smile, but have no intention of following his advice. Even the thought of joining a club was enough to set off an anxiety induced breakdown. You didn’t want more friends. You didn’t need hobbies, or interests. You just wanted to make it through the school year at least somewhat intact.


	8. Losing Control

Kylo POV

You sleep awfully. The guilt, and to an extent, _disgust_ at your recent behaviour keeps you awake for most of the night. By the time 7am rolls around, your head is pounding and you feel like shit.

The warming injection of caffeine from your morning coffee fails to have much of an affect on your tiredness. You hastily swallow down a couple of advil and, unable to hold off any longer, reluctantly head to work. 

You were determined that today would be a better day. It was time to stop this ridiculous behaviour. You were acting like an infatuated teenager, obsessing over a _pupil._ It wasn't normal. You felt like you were losing control and you hated it.

As you arrive at work and step out of your car, you leave your dark shades on, hiding your sore and sensitive eyes from the blazing morning light.

You head straight for your classroom. You had no desire to partake in the morning coffee and gossip that was without a doubt, taking place in the teacher's lounge. You'd rather be alone. It was a far more attractive prospect.

As you make your way down the corridor, your phone buzzes in your jacket pocket. Riley, again. What did she want now? You pull the message up on your screen, which is 90% expletives. 

Oh _shit._ Her lawyer’s email. You’d told her you were going to respond last night, but you'd found yourself a little...distracted. Fuck. Now you really were in trouble.

You hurriedly begin typing your excuse, your attention focused on your screen, and unfortunately, not where you are walking. 

Before you can do anything to prevent it, you collide with another body. You glance up from your phone, mildly irritated at the clumsiness of whoever this person was.

Oh god. It was _her._ It was Y/N.

The impact causes the books she is holding to slip out of her arms and fall to the floor. She blinks, momentarily confused, and then a stunned realisation washes over her face. 

‘Shit! Mr Ren, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking- I didn’t mean to-’ she says, tripping over her words. Her face was now tomato red in colour; the embarrassment she felt obvious.

‘It was my fault, I wasn’t looking where I was going.'  
She bends to pick up her fallen books.  
‘Here, let me,’ you say, wanting to be of some help.  
As you both reach towards the floor, your hand ends up on top of hers. 

It feels as if you have been struck by a bolt of lightning. The moment your skin meets hers, you feel a warmth flooding through your entire body and an undeniable urge taking hold. 

An urge to touch her. To press your body against hers and run your hands through her long hair. To taste her sweet, soft lips. To take her right here, in the corridor. 

The excitement, the desire that was burning within you; it was insatiable. For the first time in months, you felt alive. 

And you wanted _more._

Your eyes meet and to your surprise, she looks just as shocked as you are. She quickly withdraws her hand, as if stung by something sharp. Whatever it was you had felt, had she experienced it too? 

'There you go.'  
You try to maintain composure as you hand her back her books, but are suddenly feeling hot under the collar.

On top of the pile is a flyer for the Homecoming dance. You point it out, desperately trying to breeze over what had just happened. 

'Ah the homecoming dance. Bet you can't wait.'  
She laughs at you, as if your statement is completely absurd.  
'To be honest, I don't think I'll be going. It's not really my sort of thing.'

She wasn't going? Why? And why did that make you feel so...disappointed? 

'Oh really? That's a shame.'  
_Shit. Tread carefully, Kylo._  
'I mean, you know, a shame for you. It is your senior year after all. You don't want to miss out.' 

She smiles politely, but doesn't seem to know how to respond. In the brief silence between you, you notice the music coming from her headphones and use it as an opportunity to change the subject. 

'Hey is that The Strokes?' you ask. You already knew it was. You'd recognise that guitar riff anywhere.

'Yeah. They're my favourite.'  
You can't help but smile. 'Mine too. I've seen them live, actually. Coachella 2002.' 

She looks at you blankly. Jesus, had she even been born then?  
'Wow, I guess I'm really showing my age.' You give an awkward laugh, feeling like a complete idiot. 

To your relief, the school bell rings and saves you from any further embarrassment.  
'I better go,' she tells you. 'Can't be late to any more of my classes. Guess I'll see you Friday?'  
'Yes, of course. See you then.'

You watch her as she makes her way down the corridor. So beautiful. So intriguing. You could try to bury your feelings, but there was no denying you were already looking forward to seeing her again.

*****************

You are packing up your belongings at the end of the day, when a figure appears at your classroom door. Your heart rate immediately picks up. Was it...could it be...Y/N?

‘Oh hey, Kylo.' It’s Hannah, the over-enthusiastic biology teacher from the other day. She leans against the door frame, nervously playing with a strand of hair.

‘Listen, a couple of us were thinking about going for a drink later. Nothing crazy, probably just the sports bar down the road. We just wondered if you’d like to join us?’

‘Oh. Right. I… already have plans this evening. Sorry.’  
Her beaming smile falters, the disappointment on her face clear. It's obvious she has a soft spot for you.

‘Maybe another time?’ you add for good measure.  
‘Sure, no problem. Well, have a good night anyway.’  
The chances of that happening were _extremely_ slim.

Anger management classes weren't exactly how you’d choose to spend your free time, but it was the price you had to pay. Riley and Victor had agreed not to press charges, in exchange for your promise to attend these sessions. It was a necessity. You just had to grin and bear it. 

‘So, last session we spoke about your new job and how a fresh start could be of benefit to you. How’s it all going?’

Your therapist, Christine, gives you her usual look of pity. Her superiority complex was obvious and she did very little to hide it. 

To an extent, you could understand why. You were sure her usual clientèle consisted of somewhat _unsavoury_ characters.

‘Good. I mean, it’s fine. The school seems nice enough. Staff and students are...pleasant.’  
'Well that's positive. And how have _you_ been feeling?'  
'Better. Being away from them, it's definitely helped.'

‘And how are things with Riley?’  
‘We try to be as civil as possible. At least until the divorce is out of the way.’

‘But?’ she pushes, sensing the resentment in your voice.  
‘It’s difficult. Sometimes, I can’t stop thinking about them. Her and Victor. Living their lives, playing happy families in _my_ house. She cheated on _me._ And yet I’m the one who has to leave. I’m the one who has to move towns and jobs. How is that fair?’  
‘Well, you know why you had to leave-’  
‘Yes, yes. I get it.’ 

You spent so much of your time trying to forget that night. You didn't want to think about it. But the memory was burned into your mind like a white hot poker. 

‘Well, what about dating? It would be good to move on in that respect, wouldn’t it? Have you had any relationships since Riley?’  
‘No. Nothing significant, anyway.’  
‘Well, you’re young, attractive, you have a good job. What’s stopping you?’ 

You pause for a moment, considering how best to answer her question.  
‘I find dating somewhat...difficult.’

She laughs. ‘I find that hard to believe.’  
‘I have certain, er...sexual preferences...that aren’t exactly to everyone’s taste.’

Her eyes widen, but she remains composed and professional.  
‘I see. Can you be a little more specific?’

‘I can be controlling, maybe even a little possessive at times. Women tend to find me somewhat...intense. Not everyone can handle it.'

_You've gone this far Kylo, you might as well tell her everything._  
'I want women to submit to me. _Only_ me. I enjoy the power. The feeling of having authority over someone who's eager to please. Who would do _anything_ you ask of them. I get off on it.'

Christine nods, not looking up from the notepad she was furiously scribbling on.

'I think that’s partly why I reacted so badly when I found out about Riley and Victor. She betrayed me and I couldn't take it. I lost control. Of her. Of everything.' 

If Christine was at all shocked by your confession, she hid it well.  
‘Do you ever become….aggressive with your sexual partners?' she continues.

‘Yes. Sometimes. Completely consensual of course. I would never do anything to anyone against their will.’ you quickly add.

You didn’t want to give her the wrong impression and the speed at which she was taking down notes was making you nervous. Maybe you’d already said too much.

‘Do you think these types of relationship are beneficial to you? I mean, given the reason you’re attending these sessions in the first place. I’m concerned that this kind of behaviour may be detrimental to any progress you make.’

‘I disagree. If anything, I find it helpful to have a...release. A way to let go of any frustration or anger.’

‘Well there are other ways to do that. More _positive_ ways.’ She slides you a leaflet.

‘Martial arts? You’ve got to be fucking kidding.’  
‘It’s a great way to release built up stress and anger. In a controlled environment, with trained professionals.’  
‘Sorry, but I don’t really think it’s for me.’ In fact, you couldn't think of anything worse. 

She sighs, her frustration clear.  
‘Look, I’m trying to help you here. You need to show that you’ve made progress in these sessions. That you’re trying to do something about your behaviour and way of dealing with things.'

She has a point. Somehow you didn't think your BDSM kink would reflect well in the divorce proceedings. 

'I'll consider it.'  
Her frown relaxes into a smile once more. 'Good. That's all I ask.'

You pocket the leaflet, knowing full well that as soon as you left her office, it was going straight in the trash. There were some things that no amount of therapy would ever change.


	9. Crossing The Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alone with Mr Ren, you decide to make your move.

Y/N POV

Today was the day. The week had dragged, but finally, it was Friday. You don't think you'd ever looked forward to school more. Chemistry was your last lesson of the day and you couldn't wait to see Mr Ren. To be close to him. To be...alone with him.

You had come to the conclusion that one way or another, you needed to know. Did he feel the same? Was there any chance, any tiny possibility, that he wanted you too?

Even now, the thought seems ridiculous. But you hadn’t imagined the almost palpable energy as your hands had touched. You hadn’t imagined the way he stroked your shoulder as he comforted you, or the look in his eyes when he had spotted you across the canteen.

It went beyond the normal behaviour of a concerned teacher. It was something more. And you needed to get to the bottom of it.

That however, was easier said than done. Were you really going to try and _seduce_ your chemistry teacher? What if he rejected you? What if you'd got it wrong and completely misread his apparent feelings? Your stomach churns at the thought. 

You arrive at his classroom on time, for once, but already feeling anxious. The anticipation is putting you on edge and you can feel a nervous trepidation taking hold. 

As you enter the room, Mr Ren is leaning casually against the edge of his desk, _exactly_ how he had been in your dream. 

As usual, he looks completely perfect, without even trying. His hair is slightly messy and ruffled, almost falling into his eyes. He's wearing a dark blue shirt today, the top few buttons undone, giving the tiniest glimpse of his bare chest. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and you notice how prominent the veins in his forearms are. 

_Imagine what those arms could do to you, what they would feel like wrapped around you,_ you can't help but think. 

He notices you as you walk past and his serious expression cracks to give you the smallest hint of a smile.   
You give him a shy smile back as you make your way to your seat, trying to appear calm and collected, but inside your stomach is doing somersaults.

Once the room has filled, Mr Ren addresses his students. 'Ok class, settle down. Today we're going to be testing the pH of oxides, so everyone pair up and grab a test tube rack.’

This was your worst nightmare. You hated group work, anything that involved _interaction_ with your peers. The rest of the class are already pairing off, finding their friends, chatting and laughing. You stay in your seat, the familiar wave of anxiety washing over you. 

'Hey, Y/N, do you need a partner?' says a voice from across the room. 

You turn to see who has called your name. It's Dylan Johnson, one of Jake’s friends.   
'Oh erm, sure.' With no other option, you gather up your things and make your way over to him.

'So how have you been?' he asks as you sit down beside him.  
You stare at him blankly. He had to be joking, right?

'Oh shit. I mean, I'm sorry. I guess that was a stupid question.'  
'Don't sweat it. I'm fine. Still alive and kicking, despite my best efforts.'

There's an awkward pause and Dylan gawks at you in shock. Apparently he didn’t find your dark humour funny. 

'Well anyway, it's good to see you. At school, I mean. I'm glad you decided to come back.'  
'Thanks, Dylan. I appreciate it.' 

You felt sorry for him. You knew how awful he'd felt after...it…happened. It wasn't his fault of course.

But it had happened at his party. And you knew he blamed himself. Armie said that he'd visited you in hospital every day until you woke up. You’d never been close, you could barely even call him an acquaintance, but had been touched by the gesture.

You work through the experiment together, but find yourself paying more attention to Mr Ren, who is wandering around the room. He stops every now and then, checking in on your classmates. Eventually, he reaches your bench. 

‘Everything ok here?’ he asks.   
‘Yeah, we’re good,’ Dylan replies. Mr Ren ignores him completely and turns to you.

‘Oh, Y/N, are you still ok to stay behind tonight?’  
‘Yes, of course,' you reply with no hesitation.  
‘Perfect.’

As he walks away, Dylan raises an eyebrow at you.  
‘He’s offered to give me some extra help. I’m struggling a bit...you know...after everything.’  
‘Oh. That’s nice of him.’

Little did Dylan know just how much you were looking forward to your after school lesson. You could barely stop looking at the clock, practically wishing away the minutes until class was dismissed. 

Finally, the bell goes. As the classroom empties, you make your way up to Mr Ren's desk. Your heart is racing at the prospect of what could happen next. 

‘Please, have a seat,' Mr Ren says, shutting the door. You pull up a chair next to him and position yourself so that your knee is almost touching his.   
‘So, shall we continue where we left off?’ He places your paper down on the desk.

‘Sure.’  
‘I promise I won’t keep you too long. I’m sure this isn’t exactly your idea of a fun Friday night.’  
‘Oh, I don't know. I could think of worse places to be,' you smile sweetly at him.

He doesn't say anything, but his expression tells you that he hadn't been expecting that response. You weren't used to flirting, especially with someone as intimidating as Mr Ren, but were trying to make your feelings clear. 

'So, I thought we'd start by going over how to properly balance equations.'  
You look down at the paper on the desk and are immediately drawn to Mr Ren's hands, which look enormous compared to the miniscule pen he is gripping. You notice a white band of skin on one of his fingers. Where a wedding ring should be. No, where a wedding ring _used_ to be.

You can't help yourself.   
'Mr Ren, are you…married?' you ask innocently.   
He doesn't answer straight away, as if considering how to respond. 'Yes. I mean, I used to be. I'm separated.'   
'Oh, I'm sorry,’ you say and then with a sudden flash of bravery, add ‘She must be an idiot, letting you go.'   
'Well, that's er...very kind of you. I'm not sure she sees it that way though.' 

Now or never. It was time to take the plunge. You needed to know, one way or another. Were the feelings you had reciprocated? 

You carefully extend your foot under the desk and slowly trace the tip of your toes up and down the inside of his calf, lightly tickling his leg. 

‘Oh er, sorry,’ he says, and shifts his chair away slightly, clearly thinking your actions are accidental. You persevere and stretch your foot further, lightly stroking his leg again. 

Mr Ren turns to look at you, the shock on his face obvious. There was no mistaking your intentions this time.

'What are you doing…'  
'Nothing,' you say playing dumb. You move your foot up to the inside of his thigh.  
'Your...your foot…'  
'Oh that? Do you _like_ that, Mr Ren?'

'Look, I'm your teacher, this behaviour isn't-I mean it's not appropriate-'  
'I've seen the way you look at me. I _know_ you want me.’  
‘I’m not sure what’s given you that impression, but-’  
‘So you’re going to deny it then? Didn’t you feel it? The other day in the corridor?’  
Mr Ren looks completely dumbfounded. ‘I-I-’

You move your chair closer to him and rest a hand on his muscular thigh.  
'We can't do this,' he whispers.  
'Yes, we can. I want you.'   
'Y/N…'  
'Please. Kiss me. I'm all yours.'  
 _'Fuck.'_

Mr Ren's lips are suddenly on yours, hard and furious. His hands make their way to the back of your head and knot themselves in your hair, pulling you in closer to him.

His tongue invades your mouth with a brutal urgency. You can feel the desperation in the way he crashes his lips into yours, like he can’t get enough. You suck on his bottom lip, gently at first and then bite down hard.

'Shit,' he breathes. 'You naughty girl.' 

He grabs hold of your waist roughly and pulls you out of your chair towards him, until you end up in his lap. Mr Ren's hands move down across your hips and then underneath your skirt to cup your ass, squeezing your cheeks and firmly holding you down on top of him.

Your arms drape around his broad shoulders, feeling the full width of his body. At over six foot, he completely dwarfs you and you feel tiny surrounded by his strong arms. 

Straddling him, you can feel the hardness of his erection pressing through his trousers. Your stomach does as flip as you realise it's _you_ that's having this affect on him. _You_ were turning him on.

You couldn't believe this was actually happening. It's like your dream has come to life. 

You rotate your hips in a slow circle, grinding against him. Holy fuck. He feels _huge._ The throbbing in your groin intensifies with the sudden friction as you continue to rub your crotch against his trousers. You needed him. Now.

A low moan escapes his lips as you push your hips down onto his lap, teasing him. Any doubt you had about his feelings for you was rapidly disappearing. 

Spurred on by his reaction, you reach a hand down between your bodies and begin unbuttoning his shirt, revealing a muscular chest, covered with a constellation of dark freckles. You feel how warm his skin is and his heart pounding beneath his ribs as you run your fingers across his firm pectorals.

Mr Ren's lips move across your jawline and to your neck, kissing and nipping at your skin, tickling you slightly. One hand travels to your chest, to cup your left breast. He squeezes firmly, then runs his fingers underneath your bra to pinch down on your nipple hard.

You can't help but let out a moan, the wetness spreading in your underwear.   
'Mmmm, do you like that? Do you like the way I touch you?'

His words turn you on even more. You had no idea anyone could make you feel like this. You were putty in his hands. 

Feeling suddenly brave, you snake your hand down further, across his taut abdomen to his trouser belt and begin unfastening the buckle. You wanted to touch him, to pleasure him, to feel his naked skin on yours.

You are just about to lower the zipper of his trousers, when his hand grabs your wrist, sharply pulling your arm away and preventing you from going further. His mouth leaves yours, the loss of attention making you feel empty. 

You look at him, confused. Have you done something wrong? Mr Ren is breathing heavily, his face flushed and plump lips swollen.

'Wait. Stop.'  
'What?'   
'This is... wrong. We shouldn't be doing this.'   
'Don't worry about it. I won't tell anyone.' You lean in towards him, desperate to feel his lips on yours once more.

Mr Ren pushes you away. 'No, I'm serious. I can't. Get off me.'  
'What? Come on please-'  
'I said get off.' He raises his voice and you know he's serious.

Reluctantly, you clamber off of his lap. He runs a hand through his hair in frustration and buttons his shirt back up. He seems unable to look at you, instead staring at the floor.   
'This never happened.'

How fucking dare he. He was going to touch you like that, turn you on like that and then has the _audacity_ to say it never happened. 

'Are you fucking kidding? You can't just brush this under the carpet. I know you want me. I _felt_ it.'  
'This was a mistake. A moment's weakness. That's all.'

His words are like knives. You can feel the tears forming in your eyes, but you hold it in, not wanting him to see you cry.  
'So what, we just carry on like nothing's changed?'

'Well, what do you suggest we do? You're my _student._ Do you know what would happen if anyone found out? This is my fucking job we're talking about here. My livelihood. My life. I can't risk it. Not for you, not for anyone. I'm sorry.'

He stands up from his chair and makes his way to the door, which he opens.   
'I think you should probably leave now.'

You can't hide your emotions any longer. You felt angry, ashamed, used. It was enough to make your blood boil. 

'I can't believe I actually thought you were different!' you shout at him. 'I thought for once, someone actually gave a shit about me. But you're just another disappointment. Another person to let me down.' 

You grab your things and storm out of the classroom, slamming the door as hard as possible. The moment you are in the corridor, the tears start flowing freely. 

Rejection was a feeling you were used to. Even your own mother didn’t think you were worth sticking around for. But it still hurt. It still wasn’t easy to take. 

You didn’t care that he was your teacher. You knew your feelings for him wouldn’t just go away. And if this evening had proven anything, it was that your instinct had been right. Mr Ren _did_ want you, no matter how much he tried to deny it. And you weren’t about to give up so easily.


	10. Forbidden Fruit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr Ren gives in to temptation.

Kylo POV

After what has felt like the longest week of your life, it's finally Friday. The first few days of your new job have been eventful, to say the least. You are more than ready for the weekend.

But that’s not the only thing you’re looking forward to. Your last class of the day is your Seniors and that meant Y/N. You haven’t seen her since your encounter at her locker. Out of sight, but definitely _not_ out of mind. The exact opposite, in fact. You have thought of little else since. 

You wonder if she realises the effect she has on you. It was more than just intrigue; you were becoming a man obsessed. Imagining what it would be like to touch her, or taste her. Thank god she had no idea. She’d probably run a mile.

At 2pm, your Seniors begin arriving at your classroom and surprisingly, Y/N is one of the first people there. She's wearing a deliciously short skirt today, showcasing her long and supple legs. You were trying hard to shut them out, but your head was quickly filling with dangerous thoughts about _exactly_ what you'd like to do to her. 

You catch her eye as she walks past and give a soft smile, not wanting to appear over-enthusiastic. She grins back, as though pleased to see you. The possibility of that alone is enough to entice and excite you.

For now however, you needed to turn your attention back to the rest of your students.  
‘Ok class, settle down. Today we're going to be testing the pH of oxides, so everyone pair up and grab a test tube rack.’

Your students get up from their seats, but Y/N however, remains at her desk. She’s looking down at her lap awkwardly and making no effort to find a partner. Did she have no friends? 

One of the boys, -Dylan was it -has spotted her. You didn't like the look of him; he was scruffy, clearly a stoner and his grades were completely abysmal. The sort of person Y/N needed to stay well away from. 

You watch him, eyeing her up from across the room and immediately feel a pang of jealousy. You didn’t like the way he was looking at her. You knew only too well how disgusting teenage boys could be.

Dylan calls out her name and gives a dorky wave. She smiles back at him, but you can tell it isn't genuine. Eventually, however and somewhat reluctantly, she gets to her feet and joins him. 

You slowly make your way around the class, feigning interest in your other student's work, when really your attention was directed at one person and one person only. 

Out of the corner of your eye you can see Y/N, talking and laughing with that idiotic boy. Were they friends? Or...more maybe? You weren't surprised that the boys here were interested in her. They weren't blind. 

You casually make your way over to them.  
‘Everything ok here?’ you ask, trying to sound as easy going as possible.  
‘Yeah, we’re good.’ Dylan immediately dismisses you. You don't give him the time of day and instead turn to look directly at Y/N.

‘Oh, Y/N, are you still ok to stay behind tonight?’  
‘Yes, of course,' she replies, almost instantly.  
‘Perfect.’ You try to give her your most charming smile and it works; her face turning beetroot in response. 

You head back to your desk, secretly delighted that you could make her react like that. Of course, most women seemed to become somewhat flustered around you. You tended to have that affect. 

You spend the rest of the lesson sat at your laptop, pretending to read your emails, but watching Y/N. You really were becoming new levels of creepy. Eventually, the final bell of the day goes and your class hurriedly pack away their belongings, as if every extra second spent in your classroom was a second wasted. Once the classroom has emptied, Y/N approaches your desk, shyly looking at the floor. 

‘Please, have a seat,’ you tell her. She pulls a chair up right beside you and sits down, your legs almost touching. The bare skin of her creamy thighs is millimetres away from your knee. Even that’s enough to cause a stirring beneath your trousers. You try to focus on the task in hand.

‘So, shall we continue where we left off?’ You pull her paper out of your desk draw and place it down between you.  
‘Sure.’  
‘I promise I won’t keep you too long. I’m sure this isn’t exactly your idea of a fun Friday night.’  
She pauses and then with a coy smile replies ‘Oh, I don't know. I could think of worse places to be.’

Was she _flirting_ with you? You are taken aback by the sudden, somewhat brazen behaviour.  
You decide not to acknowledge it, instead turning her paper over and getting straight to the point.  
'So, I thought we'd start by going over how to properly balance equations.’  
Y/N is clearly not listening to you. She was looking at your hands, a smirk painted across her face.

‘Mr Ren, are you married?’ she asks. Have you heard her correctly? Now she has an interest in your private life as well?  
'Yes.' _Automatic response._ 'I mean, I used to be. I'm separated.'  
'Oh, I'm sorry.’ She pauses briefly. ‘She must be an idiot, letting you go.' 

Her boldness takes you by surprise. And the look in her eyes tells you that she knows exactly what she's doing.  
'Well, that's er...very kind of you. I'm not sure she sees it that way though.' 

You look back down at the paper, trying to continue with what was supposed to be a productive and helpful lesson. But you can feel something tickling your leg. You glance down underneath the desk. Oh God. It’s her foot. Y/N’s toes are slowly gliding up and down your calf. _Fuck._

You shift your chair away slightly. ‘Oh, er-sorry,’ you apologise, not wanting to embarrass her. She must not have realised. She probably thought your leg was the chair. 

Seconds later however, you feel it again. It wasn’t an accident. She was doing it on purpose. She _wanted_ you to feel it. 

‘What are you doing?’ you ask.  
‘Nothing.’ Her foot moves to the inside of your thigh, dangerously close to your crotch and semi hard cock.  
‘Your-your foot,’ you stutter, unable to process what was happening.  
‘Oh that? Do you _like_ that, Mr Ren?’  
_Jesus fucking Christ._

You did like it. Of course you did. You wanted more. You wanted her. But you couldn’t. You shouldn’t. It wasn’t right. 

You try to regain control of the situation. 'Look, I'm your teacher, this isn't-I mean it's not appropriate-'  
'I've seen the way you look at me. I know you want me.’

Were your feelings that obvious to her? You always thought you'd been a difficult person to read, but apparently not.

‘I’m not sure what’s given you that impression, but-’  
‘So you’re going to deny it then? Didn’t you feel it? The other day in the corridor?’

Even you can't deny that. You had felt it, of course you had. You'd spent the last couple of days thinking of little else. And now, it seems, Y/N had experienced it too. 

You don't know what to say. For the first time in your life, you are lost for words as the realisation hits you. Your infatuation was far from one sided. 

Y/N moves her chair towards you and lays a hand on your thigh, squeezing it gently. Shit.  
'We can't do this,' you whisper, a feeble last attempt to stop what you know is inevitable.

'Yes, we can. I want you.' Jesus, it felt so good to hear her say that.  
'Y/N…'  
'Please. Kiss me.'  
'Fuck.'

You can’t help yourself. You succumb to your urges and before you know it, your lips meet hers. She’s perfect; soft, sweet and delicious. You can’t get enough. In that moment, she is occupying every single one of your senses and it feels incredible. 

You grab hold of her silky hair, running your fingers through it, then grasping a handful tightly to pull her in closer. 

She tugs gently on your bottom lip, pulling it into her mouth and sucking, before biting down hard. You taste the sharp metallic tang of blood in your mouth. It awakens something feral within you.  
‘Shit. You naughty girl.’ 

She gives you a look that tells you she’s pleased with herself. The kind of look that makes you want nothing more than to slam her down on the desk and fuck her hard until she is screaming your name.

You run your hands over her tiny, pinched in waist, feeling the way her body curves in and out. You grab hold of her hips, pulling her from her chair and into your lap. Her skirt rides up, flashing the top of her bare thighs. 

You run your hands underneath and right over her perfect ass, feeling the lace of a skimpy thong. Your cock throbs beneath your trousers, desperate to be freed from the tight restraints. 

Y/N slowly starts to move her hips, rubbing her already damp crotch against you. The friction feels unbelievable and you let out a low moan. This was the attention you'd been deprived of for months and now, finally, the itch was being scratched. 

Her hands begin unbuttoning your shirt, pulling it apart with urgency. She snakes her nimble fingers across your chest, nails lightly tickling at your skin. 

You avert your attention to her beautiful swan like neck, kissing and biting your way from her ear down to her prominent collar bones. You can feel the blood pounding fast beneath her flawless porcelain skin. Your mouth sucks hard, leaving a deep purple bruise. Good. You wanted to mark her as your own.

One hand reaches under her shirt to grab a handful of her breast beneath her bra. Your fingers find her already erect nipple and pinch it hard. She moans, clearly enjoying the sensation.  
‘Mmmm, do you like that? Do you like the way I touch you?’ 

She runs her hands slowly across your torso and down to your trousers. Y/N starts to unbuckle your belt, her hands desperately clawing at the fastening. It was clear what she wanted. 

Was this really going to happen? Were you really going to cross that line? You wanted it to, more than anything. You needed it. You needed _her._  
But you can't drown out the voice in your head telling you _this is wrong._

What if someone found out? What if she told someone? You'd lose your job. The job you'd only been in for a week.  
And if Riley got wind of it, you'd lose...everything. 

Were you really stupid enough to risk it all? For her? This girl you barely knew. This girl who is your _pupil._

Reality comes crashing down on you and you snap out of the lustful frenzy you have been in.  
You grab her wrist, pulling her hand away from you. Y/N looks at you, her brow furrowing in confusion.

'Wait. Stop.'  
'What?' she asks, her voice faltering.  
'This is... wrong. We shouldn't be doing this.'  
'Don't worry about it. I won't tell anyone.' Y/N leans towards you once more, but you turn your head away. 

'No, I'm serious. I can't. Get off me.'  
'What?' she repeats, apparently unable to understand your actions. 'Come on please-'

She wasn't backing down. You needed to be firmer. This has already gone too far.  
'I said get off.'

She climbs off of your lap, the hurt obvious on her face. No one could know about this. Ever. You had to make sure.  
'This never happened.' 

You can see the tears forming in her eyes at your words, but she holds it together. Her expression changes to one of anger and hatred.  
'Are you fucking kidding me?' she shouts, her white skin flushing red. 

'This was a mistake. A moment's weakness. That's all.'  
'So what, we just carry on like nothing's changed?'

Now it was your turn to feel frustrated.  
'Well, what do you suggest we do? You're my student. This is my fucking job we're talking about here. My livelihood. My life. I can't risk it. Not for you, not for anyone. I'm sorry.'

Her bottom lip is trembling, her hands clenched into fists by her side. You didn't want to hurt her, but maybe things would be easier if she hated you. Maybe she would stay away. 

You walk to the door and open it.  
'I think you should leave now.'

The bottled up anger inside her explodes.  
'I can't believe I actually thought you were different!' she screams at you. 'I thought for once, someone actually gave a shit about me. But you're just another disappointment. Another person to let me down.' 

She grabs her things and flies out of the classroom, slamming the door hard behind her. 

'Fuck!' you shout and bring your fist down on the desk hard. You collapse into your chair once more, head in your hands, emotionally drained and exhausted.  
You were angry; angry at yourself for letting it get this far.  
And...frustrated that you couldn't go further. 

The desire you felt for her, the burning want within you that was aflame even now; it could not be put out. It was still there; persistent and unyielding. If anything, it has only grown stronger, spurred on by the knowledge that she wants you too. 

You needed to keep your distance from now on. You needed to stay away. You couldn't fuck up like this again. You had to stay in control. 

Temptation is a dangerous thing. And it’s true what they say; the forbidden fruit always _does_ taste the sweetest.


	11. Don't Test Me

Y/N POV

Somehow, unbelievably, your life has managed to become even more miserable. You spend the whole weekend locked in your room, shutting the world out. You were hurt and confused by Mr Ren's behaviour and all you wanted was to be left alone. 

You keep replaying Friday evening in your head and try to make sense of everything that happened. The way he had kissed you. The way he had touched you. It was clear that he had enjoyed it. That he wanted you. 

It was risky, of course; you understood that. But to cut you off completely? You couldn't bear it. 

When your alarm goes off at 7am on Monday morning, you don't attempt to get up. You lie in bed, unable to move; the heavy weight of anxiety pinning you down. The thought of seeing him again so soon; it was too much. You couldn't face it. 

And thanks to him, you now have another problem to contend with. The mark he has left on your neck has turned an ugly, purple-green colour and could be spotted a mile off. How on earth would you explain that to Armie? Or to anyone for that matter?

At 7.30, someone lightly taps on your bedroom door.  
'Honey, you up? Isn't it time you got ready for school?'

For fucks sake. Today of all days, was the day your Dad decided to give a shit. Fan-fucking-tastic.

You don't reply, but pull your covers right over your head, not wanting to deal with him. Your bedroom door creaks slowly open, letting a slither of light in. 

'Honey? What are you doing?'  
You peek your head out over the top of your blanket. 'Nothing Dad, just overslept I guess.'  
'Well, sweetheart, you need to get up. We can't have you missing any more school. I don't want you to fall behind.' 

You feel a pang of guilt. Deep down, you know your Dad is right. Missing more school would only make your life more difficult. It had already been hard enough going back after so much time away. 

And as for Mr Ren, you'd have to face him eventually. There was no escaping that. 

Reluctantly, you rise from the bed. You throw some clothes on and run a comb through your hair. You dab concealer on to your neck in an attempt to hide the enormous dark mark left by Mr Ren's mouth. 

It creates a browny orange splodge on your pale skin that frankly, looks ridiculous. Time for plan B.

You rummage through your closet and pull out a thick winter scarf. Judging by the bright sunlight streaming through your curtains, it was a pleasant and mild September day outside. Not exactly scarf weather, but what choice did you have. You had to hide it. No one could know. You wrap it around your neck. 

A quick glance at the clock and you realise you have half an hour before first period starts. Chemistry. You couldn't be late. Not today.

You speed down the stairs and straight out the door without breakfast. You glance at your phone. Two messages and three missed calls from Armie. Shit. You open the first.  
_Where are you?_

And then five minutes later:  
_Can't wait forever, going to school. Let me know you're OK._

Poor Armie. You really have been an awful friend to him over the last few weeks. You quickly type your response.  
_I'm fine, just overslept. See you at lunch?_

By the time you have practically sprinted to school, you are stifling hot beneath your scarf. You can feel a bead of sweat slowly trickling down your neck and face is hot and sticky. 

You head to Mr Ren's classroom, but your body is telling you to run in the opposite direction. Your stomach is in knots and you are sweating profusely beneath your scarf now. Would he say something? Or carry on as if Friday had never happened? 

As you enter, Mr Ren is sitting at his desk, eyes fixed on his laptop screen. You keep your head down as you slip past him.  
Has he seen you? Has he noticed you? 

As you sit down at the back of the classroom, you risk a glance up at him. Oh God. He looks _awful._ Dark circles have appeared under his eyes. His usually perfectly placed hair is a mess, sticking up at random angles and could do with a wash. He looks pale and exhausted. Like he hasn't slept all weekend. Fuck. 

Right on cue, he lets out a yawn and looks up from his screen. You quickly avert your gaze, not wanting him to catch you watching. 

'Class has begun, everyone in your seats please.' The chatting and laughing from your peers dies down.

Mr Ren stands to address the class. Your eyes are drawn to his hands, one of them covered in purple bruises, right across the knuckles. _Jesus._

'Now, today's experiment is-' he begins, but is immediately interrupted.  
Jessica raises her hand. 'Um excuse me, Mr Ren?'  
'Yes, Jessica?'  
'You're new here so probably don't realise, but we actually have quite a specific dress code here at Aurora High.'

Oh fuck no. Fear seeps through you as you realise where this was heading. _Please, please no._

'Oh?' Mr Ren says without a hint of interest.  
'Yeah. We're not allowed to wear outer clothes during class. You know, coats, hats, _scarves,_ that kind of thing.'

 _Shit shit shit shit shit._ You can feel how warm your face is getting, your classmates turning their heads to look at you. Now would be a perfect time for the ground to swallow you up.

He doesn't take the bait. 'I'm sorry Jessica, but what relevance does this have to my lesson?'

'Well Mr Ren, it seems someone is in breach of those rules. And it should be one rule for everyone, right? Why should Y/N get special treatment?' 

For the first time, Mr Ren's usually calm and collected facade slips, just for a moment, and you get a glimpse of a new emotion. Panic. Fear.

It is clear he knows exactly what will be revealed if you remove your scarf. He should do. He was the one that caused it. 

'Well, seems like a pretty stupid rule to me. And I'm here to teach you all chemistry, not dictate what you can and can't wear.'  
'But Mr Ren-'  
'Jessica, that's enough.' Mr Ren raises his voice, a flicker of anger passing over his face. 

'This is my classroom and in my classroom, you will all follow my rules. If you've got a problem with that, I suggest you take it up with Principal McGowan.' 

Jessica's mouth opens as if she is about to reply, but she concedes, huffily crossing her arms and muttering under her breath. 

'Good. Now, if we could all focus on chemistry instead of worrying about what other people are wearing.' 

You let out a small sigh of relief and slump back in your chair. Dylan is staring at you with mild fascination.  
'What?'  
'Nothing. I like the scarf. Suits you.'  
'Oh, um thanks Dylan.'

You flip open your textbook and try to focus.  
'So, you excited for the homecoming dance?' he asks.  
'I don't think I'm going.'  
'Yeah, me neither.'  
'Really? How come?'  
'Jake and everyone, they're all taking dates. I er...I don't want to go alone.'

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Mr Ren walking around the room. He glances towards you, apparently interested in your conversation with Dylan.

Inspiration suddenly hits you like a bolt of lightning. You have an idea. A dangerous idea. Let's see how Mr Ren likes this.  
You wait until he's closer and in earshot.

'Hey Dylan, maybe we could, you know, go together? To the homecoming dance I mean.'  
Mr Ren's head snaps up, his eyes burning in your direction. Good.

'Really? Me and you? What, like a...date?'  
'Sure, why not. It'll be fun.'  
'Yeah...ok...I just, I never thought you'd want to after…' 

You can see by the look on his face that your actions have had the desired effect. Mr Ren is completely livid, his hands clenched into tight fists as he walks back to the front of the classroom. 

He's jealous. Painfully so. And you can't help but smile at that. 

'Great. Pick me up at 7?'  
Dylan breaks into a beaming smile. 'Yeah sure.'  
'Perfect.'

You turn your attention back to your work, but inside are thrilled with the way that Mr Ren has reacted. He could pretend all he wanted that he didn't care. You knew the truth.

At the end of class, you deliberately take your time packing your things away, hanging behind and ensuring that you are the last to leave. Mr Ren doesn't acknowledge you, refusing to take his eyes away from the pile of papers he is grading.

You slowly walk right past his desk to the door, heart in your mouth, almost daring him to do or say something.  
'Tread carefully, Y/N.'  
You pause and can't help but smile. He just couldn't resist.

'What? Have I done something wrong?' You turn back to face him, giving your best _butter wouldn't melt_ look.  
'I know what you're trying to do. It won't work.'  
'I have no idea what you mean.'  
'So that little stunt with Dylan Johnson wasn't for my benefit?'  
'So what, I'm not allowed to have a little fun? And why do you care anyway? You've made your feelings perfectly clear. Just because you don't want me doesn't mean no one else does.'

The pencil he is holding snaps in his vice like grip, making you jump. He slams the broken splinters down on his desk.  
'Don't test me. You're playing a _very_ dangerous game.'  
You give him a wicked grin. 'Oh really? I hope so.' 

Before Mr Ren can reply, your conversation is interrupted. Miss Phillips appears at the door.  
'Oh, excuse me. Mr Ren, could I have a quick word?'  
'Of course. Y/N was just leaving.' 

You force a fake smile at Miss Phillips and quickly back out of the room, the exhilaration and adrenaline from your exchange still sweeping over you. 

By lunchtime, you have just about calmed down. You head to your usual spot in the canteen and wait for Armie. 

It felt weird keeping secrets from him like this. You usually told each other everything. But you couldn't risk it. 

You spot him across the room and wave. He walks over and sits down opposite you. In true Armie fashion, he instantly draws attention to the one thing you didn't want him to notice. 

'Er what's with the winter scarf?'  
'Nothing. Just cold I guess,' you shrug, desperately trying to down play it. Armie is having none of it.

'Y/N it's like 70 degrees outside. Seriously, what's going on?'  
'I said nothing, Armie. Just drop it, ok?'

He reaches across the table and grabs at your scarf. You try to prevent him, but it slips right through your fingers.

'Dude, what the fuck is that?' he exclaims loudly, causing several people nearby to turn their heads.  
'Armie, shut the fuck up.' You quickly wrap the scarf back around your neck.  
'Is that a...hickey? Jesus, it's huge.'  
'Oh really? Thanks Armie, I hadn't noticed!'

Armie is silent for a moment, apparently stunned into silence.  
'But... _who?'_  
You stare down at your food, suddenly feeling ashamed. 'No one. It's nothing. I'd rather not talk about it.'  
'But, I mean, you're not dating anyone, are you?'  
'No, of course not.'

'You can tell me. I promise I won't tell anyone.'  
'Look, it's…complicated. I can't explain properly right now.'  
'Why are you being so weird? If someone's hurt you, you know, or _forced_ you-'  
'Armie, it's nothing like that. You don't need to worry. Please, just trust me.' 

He raises an eyebrow, looking far from satisfied with your explanation.  
'OK, well if you're sure.'

You try to change the subject.  
'So anyway, I've decided to come to the homecoming dance.'  
'Thank god. I was worried I'd have to mingle.'  
'Well, actually I've um...I've asked Dylan Johnson to go with me.'  
' _What?_ Oh my god, he wasn't the one who... you know,' Armie gestures to his neck. 

'What? No, don't be ridiculous. I just felt bad for him. He still feels guilty you know, about everything. I just want him to know that I'm not holding a grudge.'

It was only half a lie. You did want Dylan to know that there were no bad feelings. The fact that you had done it primarily to make Mr Ren jealous however, was something you would be keeping to yourself. 

'He should feel guilty. And to be honest Y/N, you shouldn't be mixing with any of those fucking idiots.' 

He gets up from the table and walks out of the canteen in a huff. You may have forgiven Dylan, but it was clear Armie never would. 

You sigh, gathering your rubbish up and throwing it in the bin before heading after him. He'd get over it soon enough. You didn't care anyway. 

For the first time, you were actually excited about the prospect of a high school dance. You had a plan. A plan to get exactly what you wanted. You were going to make sure there was no way Mr Ren would be able to resist you.


	12. Playing With Fire

Kylo POV 

The fallout from Friday's _incident_ has resulted in you spending much of the weekend in a drunken stupor. 

Drinking yourself into oblivion had become part of your routine after the break up with Riley. It was your way of coping. You had lost everything and it had helped to fill the lonely void that was the remnants of your life.

Since moving, you thought you had turned a corner. But now, it seems you are back to square one. You haven't felt this bad for a long time. 

Your head is still pounding by Monday morning, so much so, you consider calling in sick. But that was the easy way out. The _coward's_ way out. You needed to face your problems head on and deal with them, before things got any more out of hand. 

Like you had told Y/N, it had been a moment's weakness. A mistake that you didn't plan on making again. You had to make it clear to her that Friday evening would not be repeated. 

You force yourself out of bed and make your way to work, a strong black coffee in one hand and your usual morning cigarette in the other. 

As you cross the parking lot, you notice Miss Phillips pulling up in her car. She immediately spots you and gives a friendly wave. You ignore it, pretending that you haven’t seen her, your eyes hidden by your dark shades. You head straight to your classroom and immediately slump into the chair behind your desk. 

The image of Y/N straddling and grinding into your lap flashes through your mind. Despite consuming enough alcohol for a small frat party, it seems you have not been able to shake the thoughts you have about her. 

As you open up your laptop, you catch your reflection in the black screen. You look a complete mess and every bit as crap as you feel.

To make matters worse, your right hand is still purple and swollen from the impact of your fist on the hard wood of your desk. Maybe you needed a new therapist. It was clear your anger management sessions weren’t working.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the bell and subsequent arrival of your senior class. However shit you felt, you couldn’t let them know it. _The show must go on._

In your peripheral vision, you realise Y/N has just entered the room. Part of you is relieved; after the way she had stormed out on Friday, you weren't completely sure she was going to turn up today. 

You force yourself to continue staring at your computer screen. You wouldn't- _couldn't_ look at her. As she walks past your desk, you are hit with the delicious scent of her perfume. The same scent you had smelt all over her skin as you had buried your face in her neck. _Fuck._

You glance at your watch, waiting for the last couple of students to make their way in, before standing to address the class. 

'Class has begun, everyone in your seats please. Now, today's experiment is-'  
One of the girls near the front raises her hand. 'Um excuse me, Mr Ren?'  
'Yes, Jessica?'  
'You're new here so probably don't realise, but we actually have quite a specific dress code here at Aurora High.' 

Dress code? What did you care about the dress code? And why was she bringing it up now? 

'Oh?' you reply.  
'Yeah. We're not allowed to wear outer clothes during class. You know, coats, hats, scarves, that kind of thing.' 

Where on earth was she going with this? Maybe it was the hangover, but your patience was currently down to zero and time wasting like this was really getting on your nerves.  
'I'm sorry Jessica, but what relevance does this have to my lesson?'

She smirks at you. 'Well Mr Ren, it seems someone is in breach of those rules.' She turns to look over her shoulder.  
'And it should be one rule for everyone, right? Why should Y/N get special treatment?' 

For the first time, your gaze heads to the back of the classroom and to Y/N. Her cheeks are crimson and you can see the panic and fear in her eyes. 

Around her neck is a thick woollen scarf. And then you realise. You know exactly why it is there. And what it is hiding. Shit. 

The mark you had left on her, _foolishly_ and in the heat of the moment, was sure to still be prominent on her snow white skin. 

There was no way you could ask her to remove the scarf. The embarrassment it would cause and more importantly, the questions that would be asked if her classmates saw her neck, was something you had to prevent. 

You try to laugh it off. 'Well, seems like a pretty stupid rule to me. And I'm here to teach you all chemistry, not dictate what you can and can't wear.' 

Jessica looks far from satisfied with your answer. 'But Mr Ren-' 

'Jessica, that's enough,' you snap back at her. 'This is my classroom and in my classroom, you will all follow my rules. If you've got a problem with that, I suggest you take it up with Principal McGowan.' 

It was the first time you had raised your voice, the first time you had shown a flicker of anger in front of your new class. And it works. It seems Jessica knows better than to continue arguing with you, as she silently rests back in her chair, sulking. 

'Good. Now, if we could all focus on chemistry instead of worrying about what other people are wearing.' 

You feel relieved as your class finally begin to settle down. Your secret was safe. For now. 

You turn your attention back to Y/N, wanting to check she is ok. She's already engaged in deep conversation with that idiotic Dylan boy and you are desperate to hear what is being said. Should you be worried? Surely she wouldn't actually tell anyone what had happened...would she? 

You make your way around the classroom, stopping every now and then to offer advice to your students and pretending to be interested in their work. Only one person in that classroom has your real focus. 

You catch snippets of what they are saying. They were talking about the homecoming dance. You edge closer.  
‘'Hey Dylan, maybe we could, you know, go together? To the homecoming dance I mean.'  
'Really? Me and you? What, like a...date?'  
'Sure, why not. It'll be fun.'

Y/N looks directly at you, as if waiting for your reaction. She was doing this on purpose. She was trying to make you jealous. 

You can feel the anger rising within you. You head back to your desk, trying hard to remain calm, but you can’t stop the wave of envy and fury from sweeping over you. 

You shouldn’t care this much. You shouldn’t let her get to you. But if you can’t have her, then no one can. And the thought of that _specimen_ anywhere near her...You grip the leg of your desk tightly and take a deep breath. 

When the bell finally goes, you have never been more relieved for a lesson to be over. You needed a break, some fresh air. You waste no time in dismissing your class. 

Y/N, however, seems to be lingering; purposely taking her time to pack up her things. The classroom empties and once again, you are left alone with her. Exactly what you didn't need right now. She slowly walks past you, almost taunting you with her behaviour. She was playing with fire and didn't even realise. 

Before you can stop yourself, the words have left your mouth.  
'Tread carefully, Y/N.'

She freezes at the door and slowly turns to face you.  
'What? Have I done something wrong?' So she was going to play the innocent act. Her cocky expression tells you she is _far_ from that. 

'I know what you're trying to do. It won't work.'  
She smiles. 'I have no idea what you mean.'  
'So that little stunt with Dylan Johnson wasn't for my benefit?'

'So what, I'm not allowed to have a little fun? And why do you care anyway? You've made your feelings perfectly clear. Just because you don't want me doesn't mean no one else does.' 

Your fist clenches tightly and the pencil you are holding snaps. She was infuriating, frustrating and unbelievably good at pushing your buttons. _Deep breaths Kylo, deep breaths. Remember Christine's advice._

'Don't test me. You're playing a very dangerous game,' you warn her. The truth is, she has no idea who she is dealing with. And what you are capable of. 

But your warning seems to fall on deaf ears. She doesn't look scared. The complete opposite, if anything.  
'Oh really? I hope so,' she whispers, giving you her best _fuck me_ eyes.  
_Shit._ This girl was going to be your undoing. 

Before you can put together a coherent response, Miss Phillips appears at the door behind her.  
'Oh, sorry Mr Ren. Could I have a word?'  
You force your face to relax into a smile. 'Of course. Y/N was just leaving.' 

She slinks away, the grin on her face making it clear that she was extremely pleased with herself. You shouldn't have reacted. You shouldn't have let her know how much she has affected you.

'What was all that about?' Hannah asks once she is out of earshot. 'Things looked a little...tense.'  
'Nothing. Just a minor disagreement about a late piece of homework,’ you lie. 'So, what can I do for you?' 

'Well, it was just about the homecoming dance this weekend. I was thinking...maybe we could go together? Get a bite to eat beforehand? Only if you fancied it of course.' She looks at the floor shyly.

You’re surprised at how forward she is. You were used to making the first move with women.  
'Sure, why not,' you respond. It wasn’t like you had anything better to do. And you’d already agreed to help at the dance. Why not make a night of it? 

Hannah's expression breaks into a beaming smile.  
'Perfect. Oh, you better take my number.'  
'Great.' You pull out your cell phone and hand it to her. 

Hannah's expression quickly changes as she takes the phone from you. 'Oh my god, your hand! Are you ok?'  
Shit. You'd completely forgotten about the bruises that currently covered your knuckles. 

'Oh, er that. It's nothing. I've just started taking judo lessons and well, this is the result. As you can see, I'm not very good.' 

'Judo? What an unusual hobby. You'll have to tell me more about it on Saturday.'  


Hannah is eating up every lie you're throwing at her. It was disturbing how easily they seemed to roll off your tongue.

She types her number into your phone and hands it back to you.  
'Anyway, I won't keep you. Need to prepare for my next class. I’ll see you at the weekend?’  
'Yes, see you then.' 

You weren’t exactly looking forward to your date with Hannah, but maybe this was exactly what you needed. A distraction. A bit of fun. And something to take your mind away from Y/N. 


	13. A Night To Remember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night of the homecoming dance has arrived. Will all go to plan?

Y/N POV

The homecoming dance is tonight. Dylan is picking you up at 7 and you have spent the last several hours priming and preparing yourself.

You wash and condition your hair so that it is silky smooth and apply a face mask which leaves your skin glowing. You paint your long nails and rid your body of every single bit of hair. All this effort wasn’t for Dylan’s benefit, of course. You were hoping to attract the attention of someone else entirely tonight. 

You carefully remove the dress you have bought especially for the occasion from your wardrobe. As you run your fingers over the soft material, you feel a jolt of excitement. You can’t wait to see what it looks like on. You hurriedly step into it, fasten the delicate zipper and turn to look at the result in the mirror. 

It's perfect. The blood red velvet material clings to your body, accentuating every curve and showing off the figure you usually tried to hide. The thigh high slit up one side elongates your already endless legs and gives a flash of skin. The delicately thin spaghetti straps show off your prominent collar bones and the plunging neckline gives just a hint of your ample cleavage. 

You curl your long hair into loose waves that cascade down your back. You add blush and highlight to your cheekbones and finish off your look with a dark red lipstick to match your dress.

You grin at your reflection in the mirror, more than satisfied with your appearance. You look good. _Really_ good. Older. Sophisticated. A _woman._ There was no way Mr Ren would be able to resist you. 

You glance at the clock. 6.50. Dylan would be here soon. You grab your clutch bag and head downstairs. Dad is glued to the soccer on tv and doesn’t even notice you walk into the room. You make a point of standing right in front of him, blocking his view. 

'So, what do you think?' you say, giving him a twirl.  
He looks up at you. 'Wow, honey, you look...I mean...don't you think that dress is a little...old...for you?'  
You roll your eyes. 'I'm not a child anymore Dad. I'm nearly 18. Everyone dresses like this.'  
‘You’ll always be my little girl.’  
Dad looks at you sadly and you don’t know how to reply. For a moment, there’s an awkward silence between you, which you are saved from by the doorbell ringing. 

'That'll be Dylan.'  
'Oh. Your _date._ Right.' Dad puts down his half empty beer can and switches the TV off. Apparently he means business. 

You open the front door. Dylan is standing on your porch looking somewhat...underwhelming. His suit is miles too big for him, clearly borrowed from his father and his brown shoes are scuffed on the toes. 

When he sees you, his jaw drops open.  
'Holy shit. Y/N, you look...fucking _incredible.'_  
You blush, secretly thrilled with his reaction. ‘Thanks, Dylan. You look...nice.’

Dad appears behind you and places a protective hand on your shoulder. He has a stern look on his face that is completely out of character. 

'Dylan is it?' he extends his arm to shake his hand. Since when was your Dad so...formal?  
‘Yes, Sir.’  
‘Make sure you look after my daughter tonight. I want her back here by 11, not a minute after.’  
‘Yes, Sir. Of course.’  
‘Alright.’ Dad’s expression relaxes. ‘Well, you kids have fun.’  
‘Bye Dad!’ you wave as Dylan leads you to his car.

Any hopes you had of arriving to the dance in style quickly disappear as you take a seat in Dylan’s ancient Volvo. Empty Mcdonald’s wrappers litter the floor and there was an underlying scent of weed that lingered on the stained seats. God, he could’ve at least made an effort to tidy up a bit. 

The disgust on your face must be obvious as Dylan looks embarrassed and quickly apologises.  
‘Sorry about the mess.’  
‘Oh, er no problem.’  
Dylan reverses the car out of your driveway and flicks the radio on. 

You try to appear interested as he makes small talk with you, but your stomach is already in knots. By the time you pull up at school, you are a nervous wreck.  
‘Everything ok?’ Dylan asks as he helps you out of the car.  
You take a deep, steadying breath and force yourself to reply with a smile. ‘Yep. I’m great.’  
‘Well, we better head inside. Fucking freezing out here.’

The school gym has been decorated to resemble what you think is supposed to be a casino. A red carpet has been laid out and fake poker tables are dotted around the room. Red and black balloons and streamers are hanging from the walls and the DJ at the far end of the dance floor appears to be sandwiched between two giant paper mache dice. 

As you walk into the room, you realise people are turning to stare at you. Some do double takes, apparently unable to recognise you.  
‘Everyone’s staring’ you quietly mumble to Dylan.  
‘Of course they are. You look _killer._ ’  
You smile. Dylan could be sweet when he wanted to be. 

You head for a table and sit, trying at least for the moment, not to draw any more attention to yourself.  
Dylan stays standing. 'I'll go grab us a drink.'  
‘Great,’ you reply.

He walks off in the direction of Jake and his posse who greet him with a wolf whistle, to which he responds by giving Jake a high five. You can’t help but roll your eyes. The boys in your year really are the biggest bunch of immature imbeciles. 

With Dylan temporarily occupied, you scan the crowded room, looking for the one person you are desperate to see. It doesn't take you long to spot him.

_Holy fucking shit._ How could anyone miss him? If you thought Mr Ren was gorgeous before, it was _nothing_ compared to how he looked tonight. 

He is dressed in a simple black tux, made to measure and fitted to perfection, complete with matching bow tie. You notice the buttons on his shirt straining across his broad chest, almost unable to contain him. His shoes are the complete opposite to Dylan’s scruffy pair; polished and shiny, like brand new. 

For the first time, you see Mr Ren without his glasses. He looks younger, less serious and you realise just how big and beautiful his eyes are when not hidden by his thick frames. 

He's completely perfect. And wouldn't look out of place on the set of a _Bond_ movie. 

The butterflies in your stomach have increased sevenfold. What on earth were you going to do? What was your plan? What if he rejected you, again? You are beginning to panic and it doesn't go unnoticed. 

'You ok, Y/N?' Dylan has returned and passes you a cup of fruit punch.  
‘I’m fine. It’s nothing. Just you know, all the excitement I guess.’  
'You want some of this?' he pulls a hip flask out of his jacket. ‘Might help you relax a bit.’  
You raise an eyebrow. 'What's in it?'  
'Whiskey. Mostly…'  
You pause. You shouldn't. But right now you didn't care. You needed something to take the edge off.

'Fuck it.' You take the flask and pour half of the contents into your cup, immediately knocking it back. It tastes vile and burns your throat as you swallow it down. 

You hand the flask back to Dylan and glance back in the direction of Mr Ren, curious to see if he has noticed you yet. He's chatting to Miss Phillips. They look close. _Too_ close. She laughs loudly and touches his arm, in a way that seems more than just a friendly exchange between colleagues. Was there something going on between them? 

Your emotions instantly switch and suddenly you feel angry and bitterly jealous. He was going to move on so quickly? After everything? Time to take things up a notch. You need to show him what he is missing.  
'Come on Dylan, let's dance.' 

Without giving him any choice, you drag him to the dance floor and grab his hands, placing them firmly on your hips. His shocked expression tells you he definitely wasn't expecting this. 

You turn around, positioning yourself in front of Dylan so that you are in clear view of Mr Ren. It seems he has finally noticed you. 

His expression turns from one of initial surprise, to absolute and unmistakable fury when he sees Dylan behind you, hands all over your body. His eyes cut through you like daggers. 

You grind back on Dylan, wiggling your hips to the music. One hand traces the length of your thigh and then cups your ass, squeezing it tightly. You reach your hands above your head and around Dylan’s neck, encouraging him to get even closer.

Your eyes remain fixed on Mr Ren. You were putting on quite a show, and wanted him to know it was all for him. 

What you are doing is clearly working. The phrase _if looks could kill_ springs to mind. 

Maybe it’s the excitement or adrenaline of the situation, but you are starting to feel dizzy and light headed. The room seems to be spinning, the lights hurt your eyes and seem almost too bright. You feel...odd. Something wasn't quite right. Perhaps you just need some fresh air. 

You stop dancing, clutching onto Dylan to steady yourself. He looks worried. ‘Y/N are you ok? You don’t look so good.’  
‘I’m fine. I’ll be back in a minute, just need a bit of air.’ You stumble away, leaving Dylan standing by himself on the crowded dance floor. You can’t breathe and feel nauseous. You desperately push past people, trying to make your way to the exit.

Someone grabs your arm. You look up. The person’s face is a blur, but there was no mistaking who the bright red hair belonged to. Armie, thank god.

‘Oh heeeeeeey bestie.’  
Armie looks at you in horror. 'Jesus fucking christ, what have you taken?'  
'I've not taken anything _stupid,_ ' you reply, but the words slur as they roll off your tongue.  
'Y/N, you can barely stand up and your eyes are like saucers.'  
‘Dylan might have given me a _teeny tiny_ bit of whisky, but-’  
‘Dylan? Of course, I should’ve known. I told you to stay away from those boys. Come on, let’s get you outside.’

Armie slips an arm around your waist and drags you out of the crowd. A minute later and the freezing cold air of the night hits your face. You take a deep breath. It stings as you inhale and feels sharp on your throat.

Armie leads you down the steps and you cling onto the metal railing, trying not to trip over your own feet. You slump down and immediately vomit onto the floor. Everything is blurry and you feel awful. You put your head in your hands, desperately trying to stop the world from spinning.

'Is she ok? Another voice, not Armie. Someone else.  
'Just about.'  
'Who did this to her? You?' The voice sounds angry.  
'What? No! I've barely been with her. She claims she's not had anything. She mentioned something about Dylan giving her some whiskey, but-'  
'I should’ve known that piece of shit was involved. Right, I'll drive her home. Help me get her to my car.'

Suddenly, you're no longer sitting on the steps, but are on your feet. Someone is gripping your waist tightly, supporting you. You look up in confusion at the owner of the firm hands holding onto you and can just about make out the dark hair and strong side profile of Mr Ren. 

'Tell Principal McGowan I've taken her home and I’ll be back as soon as I can. And don't let Dylan Johnson leave the premises.'  
Mr Ren places you onto the front seat of a car and puts something over you. Something warm. You snuggle down into it. 

The car door slams and he leans across you to plug your seatbelt in. You breathe in a deep, woody cologne that you recognise. Mmmmm, Mr Ren smells amazing. Was it _his_ car that you had been bundled into? You were struggling to make sense of what was happening. The engine roars to life and suddenly, you are moving.

'Are you taking me home, _Sir?'_  
'Yes.'  
'Why? I was having fun.'  
'Fun? For fucks sake, look at you. You can barely stand up.'  
‘I’m _fine,_ I don’t want to go home yet. Can I stay with you, Mr Ren?’  
‘Don’t be fucking ridiculous.’

You unbuckle your seatbelt and lean across to whisper in his ear.  
‘I _know_ you’re jealous. I know you saw me dancing with Dylan.’  
He laughs. ‘Jealous? Of that cretin? Please.’  
‘You want me. I _know_ you do.’ You slide a hand over Mr Ren’s lap and to his groin, rubbing him through his trousers. One hand leaves the steering wheel as he attempts to bat you away.

‘Stop it. You've been spiked, Y/N. Don’t you realise how serious this is? You’re a complete mess. You have no idea what you’re saying. Or doing.’  
‘I know _exactly_ what I’m saying. And I know exactly what I want you to do to me.’ You snake your hand towards him again.

He slams the wheel with his fist. ‘ENOUGH. Don't make this any more difficult than it needs to be.'

He runs a hand through his hair, letting out an exasperated and defeated sigh. 'You're right. I do want you. Of course I do. I want to hold you. Touch you. _Fuck_ you. And it's taking every ounce of self control I have to stop myself.' 

'Then don't,' you whisper.  
'Y/N, what we did - it wasn't right. I took advantage of you. And I can't let it happen again, no matter how I truly feel.' 

You slump back in the chair, feeling dejected.  
Mr Ren's voice softens. 'Now, I'm driving you home and you're going to sit still and be quiet until we get there. Understand?'

You silently nod and turn to look out of the window, the bright street lights almost hypnotising as they flash by you. You must have drifted off, because suddenly you are pulling up outside your house. You didn't want to go home. You wanted to stay curled up in Mr Ren's car forever.

Mr Ren swings the car door open and helps you to your feet. He walks you up the path to your door and rings the bell. No reply.  
‘Isn’t anyone home?’  
‘My Dad…’  
Mr Ren bashes the door with his fist. Still no one answers.  
‘Ah, fuck it.’ 

He pushes the door open and leads you inside.  
'Jesus…' you hear him say. You can just about make out the shape of Dad, as usual passed out on the couch. 

Mr Ren ignores him and continues to lead you up the stairs and to your room. He gently places you down on your bed, the soft pillow feeling heavenly beneath your head.  
'Stay with me?' you whisper.  
'I can't. I need to get back.'  
'Please, Mr Ren?'

He sits down at your feet.  
'Kylo. My name's Kylo. Now, close your eyes for me. Get some sleep.'  
'You can't tell me what to do,' you murmur, but can already feel your eyes growing heaving.

Mr Ren chuckles. 'Shhhh. Sleep.' He reaches a hand out and lightly strokes the side of your face. It feels comforting and you slowly slip away, the darkness closing in around you.

You wake in the morning to the sunlight bursting through the gap in your curtains. You are fully dressed, lying on top of your covers. Your mouth feels raspy and dry and your entire body aches. 

What the hell happened last night? Your head is throbbing as you try to sit up. You rub your eyes, smearing last nights make up all over your face. 

You look at your bedside clock. It's 3pm. _Shit._ You've been out for hours. And can barely remember a thing. 

Someone has placed a glass of water and a packet of painkillers on your table. Dad, maybe? Dylan? You pop two tablets into your mouth and chug the entire glass.

No, not Dylan. Everything was coming back to you. He was the reason you were in this state. He'd spiked you. Armie had been right about him all along. 

_Fuck fuck fuck._ Confused snippets from last night play through your mind. Mr Ren had been here. In _your_ room. He'd put you to bed. He'd driven you home…

Oh no. Your cheeks are burning as the memory of the car journey comes flooding back. You feel ashamed and embarrassed at the way you'd practically groped Mr Ren and once again, he had pushed you away. Shit.

You head to the bathroom and wash your face. It does little to refresh you. You peel your dress off of your body and replace it with a baggy jumper and your favorite pyjama bottoms. Realising that you would have to face the world eventually, you slowly head downstairs. 

You grab a carton of orange juice from the fridge and swig straight from it, too thirsty to wait for a glass. Dad appears from the front room.  
'Oh hey honey, you're awake. I didn't want to disturb you this morning, you were out for the count. Good night I take it?' 

Thank God he was none the wiser about what had happened. You didn't need him freaking out on top of everything else.  
'It was…interesting.'  
‘Well, I’m off into town. A couple of the boys are watching the game and thought I might fancy a few rounds of pool first. You’ll be ok, right sweetie?  
‘Sure. No problem.’  
‘That’s my girl. I’ll see you later.’

As soon as Dad leaves, you slump down onto the couch, feeling worse by the minute. You shut your eyes, hoping more rest will make you feel better, but are startled by someone bashing loudly on the door.

‘Now what,’ you mutter. You peak through the peephole. ‘Oh, it’s you,’ you say, unlocking the door.

'Thank fuck you're ok.' Armie doesn't wait to be invited in, instead pushing past you to your front room. 'You know, once it might make a nice change for you to actually answer your phone.' 

'Sorry. I've not even looked at it to be honest, I’ve only just woken up-'  
'Can you remember anything from last night?'  
'Bits…' How you made a complete ass of yourself in front of Mr Ren. Again.

'It was Dylan, Y/N. Dylan did this to you.'  
'I know. And I'm sorry, Armie. You warned me to stay away from him.'  
'Well maybe next time you’ll actually listen to me. I'm just glad you're ok.' He gently touches your leg.

'Besides, it's not all bad news. From what I've heard Dylan nearly shit himself when Mr Ren confronted him.'  
'What?! What do you mean, _confronted?'_  
'Oh right, you don't know. Well, after he took you home, he came straight back to the dance. Apparently he looked furious. Cornered Dylan in the men's restroom. Had him pinned up against the wall.' 

You can't stop your mouth from dropping open in horror. _No no no no no._  
'It'll be a shame to see Mr Ren go, he seemed like an alright guy.'  
'Armie, I think, I think I'm gonna be-' 

You make it to the bathroom just in time and vomit into the toilet. This couldn't be happening. Mr Ren was going to lose his job. You'd never see him again.

And it was all your fault.


	14. Consequences

Kylo POV

By the time 7pm rolls around, you are actually _glad_ that it is time to head to school for the Homecoming Dance. Dinner with Hannah has been an extremely dull affair; in fact you have never met anyone more bland in your life. 

She was nice enough, harmless really. A passionate teacher, you had to give her that. But there was nothing else to her. What you saw was exactly what you got. Everything about her was surface level.

There was no fire, no depth, nothing to excite or entice you. She was, for want of a better word...boring. And you were the sort of person who needed constant stimulation, intellectual or...otherwise.

Once you finally reach the school, you were hoping she’d leave you alone, but much to your dismay, Hannah is following you around the gym like a lost puppy. Too bad you'd driven here; you could really use a stiff drink right now.

School dances were not something you usually liked to involve yourself with. Lairy teenagers sneaking in bottles of alcohol that you would have to confiscate, couples participating in questionable behaviour that was definitely not appropriate for school and even the odd fight that you would have to break up. You were not there to enjoy yourself, it was simply a requirement of your job. 

The room quickly begins to fill up, the blaring dance music getting louder and louder. You greet your students with a smile, trying to give off the appearance of someone who wasn’t counting down the minutes until they could leave. 

Hannah has moved on to telling you about her numerous pets. Couldn't she tell you really didn't give a shit? You are about to give her a lame excuse about needing the restroom, when suddenly, you see her. 

Y/N. _Fuck._

She stands out from the crowd like a sore thumb. In that moment, it’s as if everyone else in the room disappears. She is the only one that matters and you are hypnotised by her.

Her dress fits her like a glove, showcasing her incredible figure. The dark red material contrasts perfectly with her pale skin and long raven hair, that sits in waves almost down to her waist. She doesn’t look real, an almost ethereal beauty. It takes your breath away. 

She’s perfect. And she could never be yours. 

‘And so anyway, that’s how I ended up getting my second cat Henry…’  
You snap back into the humdrum conversation and reality.

‘Well, Henry’s very lucky to have you.’ You were trying to remain kind, but your patience is wearing dangerously thin.

‘Oh Kylo, how sweet of you.’ Hannah touches your arm and lightly strokes it. She has clearly missed the sarcasm in your voice. 

You glance over Hannah's shoulder, desperate to find a distraction or excuse to leave. You spot Y/N again, walking to the dance floor with that idiot boy. He grabs hold of her waist and she moves her hips rhythmically in time to the music, grinding on Dylan provocatively. His filthy hands are all over her. 

She looks up in your direction and you lock eyes. Y/N smirks at you, clearly delighted with what she was doing. She wants a reaction from you. She was trying to make a point. 

You stare back at her, deep into her eyes. It's becoming impossible to hide your anger; the heat rises to your cheeks and your fists clench into tight balls. Her smile widens as she realises the effect her actions are having on you.

Every ounce of self control in your body is forcing your feet to remain glued to the spot, when really all you want to do is march across the dancefloor and drag her away from him. 

Maybe you _should_ do something. You're one of the teachers after all, and their behaviour on the dance floor is far from appropriate; it's practically x rated. 

Before you can make a move, Y/N suddenly stops dancing. She walks away from Dylan and stumbles through the mass of people, clearly unsteady on her feet. Something isn't right. 

Another boy catches Y/N as she trips again and he clings onto her. You recognised him. Ah yes, her friend from the canteen. They're talking but you're too far away to hear what's being said.The look of shock on his face worries you further. 

He puts an arm round Y/N and drags her away from the dance floor, heading out of the front entrance of the gym. You need to find out what's going on.

'Will you excuse me, Hannah? I need to go and check on something.'  
Oblivious to everything you had just witnessed, she replies 'Oh, of course. I'll be waiting right here.' 

You head out of the gym, seething with fury. If anything happened to her, if she was harmed in any way…You didn't want to think about it. 

You burst through the doors. Y/N is slumped over on the steps, vomit at her feet.  
'Is she ok?'  
'Just about,' the red head replies.  
''Who did this to her? You?' You were trying hard to contain your anger, but it was beginning to boil over.

'What? No! I've barely been with her. She claims she's not had anything. She mentioned something about Dylan giving her some whiskey, but-'

Of course. That good for nothing, waste of space.  
'I should’ve known that piece of shit was involved. Right, I'll drive her home. Help me get her to my car.'

You had to get her out of here. You wouldn't let any more harm come to her. 

You pull her from the steps, throw one of her limp arms around your shoulder and grab her tiny waist tightly. 

She looks up at you, but her eyes are glazed over, like she's not truly seeing you. She stares for a moment and then smiles as if she finally recognises you. 

You bundle her into your car and she shivers, the cold air taking effect on her scantily clad body. Y/N brings her knees up to her chest and hugs them tightly. 

You hastily remove your jacket and place it over her like a blanket. She grabs at the material, pulling it in closely around her. 

'Tell Principal McGowan I've taken her home. And don't let Dylan Johnson leave the premises.' You would deal with him later. 

Y/N’s friend nods and heads back towards the school. You waste no time and jump into the driver's seat next to her, pausing only for a moment to ensure her seatbelt is securely buckled. The sooner she was home, the better. 

You start the engine and reverse out of the parking lot. Y/N stirs next to you.  
'Are you taking me home, _Sir?'_ she asks. Even when intoxicated she's still a sarcastic little shit. 

'Yes.'  
''Why? I was having fun.'  
'Fun? For fucks sake, look at you. You can barely stand up.' She clearly has no comprehension of the situation she currently finds herself in. 

‘I’m fine, I don’t want to go home yet. Can I stay with you, Mr Ren?’  
_If only things were that simple._  
‘Don’t be fucking ridiculous.’

You hear a click as she unbuckles her seatbelt and slides nearer to you. You keep your eyes fixed on the road.  
‘I _know_ you’re jealous. I know you saw me dancing with Dylan.’  
You try to laugh it off. ‘Jealous? Of that cretin? Please.’

‘You want me. I know you do.’ One hand snakes across your lap and she fumbles with your trouser zipper.

_No. Not now. Not when you're like this._  
You bring your arm firmly across her and force her back into the seat. 

‘Stop it. You've been spiked, Y/N. Don’t you realise how serious this is? You’re a complete mess. You have no idea what you’re saying. Or doing.’

The gravity of the situation doesn't seem to phase her and she perseveres.  
‘I know exactly what I’m saying. And I know _exactly_ what I want you to do to me.’ 

She reaches out for you again, apparently desperate to get into your pants.  
'Enough!' you slam the wheel with your fist and it has the desired effect. Y/N jumps, her hand instantly recoiling. 'Don't make this any more difficult than it needs to be.'

The frustration you felt is becoming unbearable. You are trying so hard to do the right thing and deny your urges. But no matter how much you tried to ignore your feelings and bury them away, the need for this girl is ever present and spreading like wildfire. 

You let out a sigh, admitting defeat.  
'You're right. I do want you. Of course I do. I want to hold you. Touch you. Fuck you. And it's taking every ounce of self control I have to stop myself.' 

Y/N blinks at you and you're not entirely sure she's even understood what you have said. For a moment, she's unusually silent, no witty response or remark. 

'Then don't,' she whispers so quietly you barely hear her.

Things would be so much easier if she had no interest in you; hated you even. _That_ you could cope with. 

But the knowledge that she longed for you, too; that your feelings are reciprocated, it only stoked the flames of your desire. 

A desire that can never be fulfilled. Your feelings don't change anything. She is unattainable, and for both your sakes, had to remain so. 

'Y/N, what we did - it wasn't right. I took advantage of you. And I can't let it happen again, no matter how I truly feel.'

She doesn't respond and eventually concedes, sinking back into her seat.  
'Now, I'm driving you home and you're going to sit still and be quiet until we get there. Understand?'

She nods and turns to stare out of the window. By the time you reach her house, you realise she has fallen asleep.

You open the car door and Y/N stirs, sleepily rubbing her eyes. Carefully, you wrap your arm around her once more and help her to her feet. You guide her up the path to the front door and ring the bell. No one answers it. 

‘Isn’t anyone home?’ you ask, glancing at your watch. Only 9.30pm. It wasn’t exactly late.  
‘My Dad…’  
You wrap your knuckles on the door three times. Still no one appears. You couldn’t stand on the doorstep all night. Y/N has started shivering again. And you need to get back to the dance.  
‘Ah, fuck it.’ 

You push the front door open and lead Y/N inside. A man, who you could only assume was her father, is lying on the couch, snoring loudly. Empty beer cans and a whiskey bottle litter the table and floor surrounding him. 

'Jesus…' No wonder Y/N had problems. Judging from this scene, you couldn’t imagine her home life was exactly conventional.

You head up the stairs and into the room that surely must belong to her. The dresser is littered with trinkets, rings and dozens of bottles of nail polish. On the wall above the bed is a poster of another of your favourite bands.

You lay her down carefully on top of the covers and notice a framed picture on her bedside table. Y/N, the man downstairs and another woman, who you assumed must be her mother. They looked happy. You wonder how it had all gone so wrong. 

You fill a glass of water from the bathroom and find a packet of aspirin from the drug cupboard, leaving them on the table next to her. 

'Stay with me?' Y/N mumbles, half asleep.  
'I can't. I need to get back.'  
'Please, Mr Ren?'

Mr Ren. It sounded weirdly formal when you were standing in her room.  
‘Kylo. My name’s Kylo.’  
You hesitate, before perching gently at the foot of the bed. 

'Close your eyes. Get some sleep.'  
'You can't tell me what to do.' She has a response for everything.It makes you chuckle. 'Shhhh. Sleep.' 

You reach out a hand and lightly run your fingers over her forehead and hair, stroking gently. Y/N’s eyes close and finally, she is still. 

You make your way quietly downstairs. Her father hasn’t moved. You slowly sneak past him and out of the front door. Y/N was safe now, that was all that mattered. Now you only had Dylan to deal with.

As soon as you are in your car, you step on the gas, foot to the floor. You needed to get back before he had any chance to leave, or realised that something was up. You run a red light, but you don’t care. He had to pay. 

You burst back through the doors of the gym, scanning the room for any sign of Dylan Johnson. Hannah immediately rushes over to you. 

'Kylo, are you alright? I heard about Y/N, is she ok?'  
You brush straight past her, trying to make your way over to a crowd of seniors on the dancefloor. 

'I can't talk right now, Hannah. Have you seen Dylan Johnson anywhere?'  
'What's going on? Can I help?'

Would this woman ever leave you alone? You have reached the limit of what you could take. You have to say something.

'Look, Hannah. You seem nice enough and there's no easy way to say this, but this, us - it's never going to happen.'  
'What? But we were getting on so well! I thought-I thought-'  
'You thought wrong. I'm sorry for misleading you.' 

Hannah's bottom lip trembles slightly. You turn your back on her. She’d get over it, in time.  
'Has anyone seen Dylan Johnson?' You ask a nearby group of jocks.  
'No, sorry Mr Ren.'  
'Damn it!' 

You head onto the dance floor, desperately pushing through the crowd, but no luck. You needed to find him and fast. You look around the room, but can't see him anywhere. Fuck, had he already left? Where could he be? You realise there is one place you haven't looked. 

As you enter the men's restroom, Dylan is standing at the urinal zipping up his pants, whistling to the distant music without a care in the world. He didn't give a shit about Y/N. He didn't give a shit about anything. 

The anger inside you reaches boiling point and you can no longer contain it. He needs to pay. He needs to learn that his actions have consequences. 

You storm across the room, grab Dylan by the scruff of his neck and slam him up against the wall.

'Dude, what the fuck!' He protests. Your hand remains firmly at his throat. 

'What did you give her? Tell me! Now!'  
'I didn't- I mean-'  
'Listen to me you sack of shit, you better start talking, or I'm going to make life extremely unpleasant for you.'  
'I swear I didn't know-'

'Enough of the bullshit. I've seen the way you look at her. Your hands were all over her tonight. Was that your plan, huh? Slip her something so you could take advantage?'  
'No! 

'Mr Ren? What is going on in here? What on earth are you doing to Mr Johnson?'

Shit. Principal McGowan has appeared behind you. Someone must have heard the commotion. 

Reluctantly, you let go of Dylan's shirt.  
'Principal McGowan, this _scumbag_ spiked a student tonight.'  
'Principal McGowan, I swear-' he begins.  
'He put something in Y/N's drink. Earlier this evening I had to take her home. She's OK. Just. Who knows what might have happened if I hadn't intervened.'

'Dylan, this is a very serious accusation and one I can't ignore. I'm afraid I'm going to have to suspend you until we get to the bottom of this.'

Principal McGowan turns to directly address you.  
'And as for you, Mr Ren, manhandling one of my students is not, and never will be acceptable behaviour, no matter what they've been accused of.' 

'I'll see both of you in my office on Monday morning.'  
_Fuck._ Now you really were in trouble.

You have overstepped the mark. Your anger has got the better of you, once again. And now it seemed likely you were going to lose your job. 

When would you learn to keep your feelings under control? You were furious, and not just with Dylan, but with yourself. 

You should have trusted your instincts from the start. You _knew_ he was no good and you should have stopped Y/N from ever getting close to him. 

You weren't able to protect her. You weren't there when she needed you most. And now you would have to deal with the consequences.


	15. Perfect

Y/N POV

It seems news of your early departure from the Homecoming Dance and the subsequent _altercation_ between Mr Ren and Dylan has travelled fast. By Monday morning, once again, you found yourself the hot gossip at Aurora High. 

You try your best to ignore the whispers and comments behind your back as you make your way into school. But instead of going straight to home room like normal, you head to Principal McGowan's office. The thought of Mr Ren losing his job because of you was unbearable. If there was anything you could do, anything at all to help him, you wanted to do it. 

You burst through the door of Principal McGowan's office without knocking or waiting for permission to enter. She looks up from her computer in surprise.

'Can I help you, Y/N?'  
'Principal McGowan, you can't fire Mr Ren.'  
She looks up at you over her glasses. 'I'm yet to get to the bottom of exactly what happened on Saturday night, but if there's something you'd like to share, please; enlighten me.'  
'He...he was just looking out for me. After what happened, he took me home, made sure I was ok.'

‘And what exactly _did_ happen?’  
‘Dylan had a hip flask of whiskey. And stupidly, I thought it was a good idea to have some.’  
‘I see.’  
‘I’m the one to blame, not Mr Ren. Please don't punish him for this. He was only trying to help.' 

'That's all very well Y/N, but the way he conducted himself was a far cry from how I expect teachers at this school to act. I won't tolerate violence of any kind, from anyone - teachers or students.'  
'Please. _Please,_ don't get rid of him. He's helping me. A lot. I fell behind after last year and he’s helping me catch up.’

'I appreciate what you're saying and I have no doubt in his teaching ability. But this isn’t something I can simply brush under the carpet.’  
‘Please, I’m begging you.’ You can feel your eyes welling up. Principal McGowan gives you a pitying look.  
‘That’s enough, Y/N. I'm sure you have a class to get to.'

It's no use. You knew she wouldn't budge. You had done all you could. Reluctantly, you leave the Principal's office and head to chemistry. The guilt you felt is eating you up inside and you only feel worse when you walk into Mr Ren's classroom and realise it is not him sitting behind his desk. 

He wasn't there. He has been replaced by another member of the Chemistry faculty; Mrs Roberts. You realise there's no sign of Dylan either. 

'Settle down. I'll be taking Mr Ren's class today.'  
'Why where is he?' Jessica asks Mrs Roberts, who's eyes immediately widen. Jessica then turns to you, an innocent look on her face. 'Have _you_ seen him, Y/N?' 

Her act doesn't fool you. You were well aware that most people knew exactly what had happened at the dance. 

'That's quite enough, Jessica. Everyone in your seats.'  
Neither Mr Ren or Dylan make an appearance during class. Now you were really starting to worry. 

At the end of the day, you head back to Mr Ren's classroom. Perhaps it was foolish, but you needed to know the outcome of his meeting with Principal McGowan. Would you really never see him again? 

You knock lightly on the door, not even sure if anyone would respond. Relief washes over you when you hear Mr Ren's voice reply and invite you in.

As you peek your head around the door, he is sitting in his usual spot at his desk, a strained look on his face. When he realises it is you, his expression relaxes, ever so slightly.

'Y/N. I wasn't expecting to see you.'  
'Don't worry, I’m not going to stay long. I just need to get something off my chest.'  
'Please, go ahead.'

You step forwards into the room slightly, trying to give off the illusion of confidence.  
'Well, firstly, I-I wanted to um...apologise. For Saturday night. I can remember bits and pieces and well, I know my behaviour wasn’t exactly.... _appropriate._ So I’m sorry if it made you feel awkward, or uncomfortable.' 

You stare down at the floor, unable to stop yourself from feeling shy as Mr Ren continues to keep his gaze fixed on you.  
‘And I also wanted to say thank you. For what you did for me. You didn't have to help me, but well...I'm grateful you did.' 

Mr Ren smiles at you. 'You have nothing to apologise for. None of what happened was your fault, Y/N. Please remember that. I just wish I could have done more.' 

You are both quiet for a moment as you take in what the other has said.  
'So anyway, what happened with Principal McGowan? You haven't lost your job, have you?'  
'No, not quite. I've been suspended for a couple of weeks whilst things cool off. But it could've been a lot worse. I guess I have you to thank for that.'

You shrug. ‘I guess I just couldn’t bear the thought of you leaving. Anyway, I should probably go.’ With one last, sad smile, you turn and pull the door ajar.

'Wait! I have something I want to say too.' You freeze. Mr Ren stands from his desk and walks around it to place himself right in front of you.

'I want you to know that I never asked for any of this. I never went looking for it, I never for a minute expected…what I'm trying to say is, I care about you, Y/N. More than you know.' 

'Saturday night, well it put a lot of things into perspective for me. Seeing you, in trouble like that. You needed me and I wasn't there to protect you. For that, I'm sorry.' 

'It made me realise that maybe...maybe I don't have the strength to stay away from you anymore. I've tried, believe me I have. But I'm tired of pretending. I'm tired of playing this stupid game.'

He pauses, as if considering what to say.  
'The truth is...I won't be satisfied until I have you. I want you to belong to me, and no one else. I want you to be _mine.'_

You are stunned into silence by Mr Ren's revelation. Could this really be happening? After everything, he was finally admitting his true feelings for you. 

'Then take me,' you whisper.  
Mr Ren gives you a wicked smile and walks over until he is standing inches from you. He reaches down and gently tucks your hair behind one ear.

He leans in close and the warmth of his breath hits your cheek. Your heart is pounding furiously with adrenaline as he brings his mouth to your ear and whispers  
'You really should be careful what you wish for.' 

Suddenly, Mr Ren forces you hard up against the door and it slams shut behind you. He reaches a hand down between your bodies and you hear the lock click as he turns it.

His lips find yours with an almost feral urgency. As your tongues intertwine, he cups your cheek with his hand, running his thumb over your skin. Mr Ren pushes his body against yours, parting your legs with his knee and anchoring himself firmly in between them. One hand reaches down to your thigh and he grasps it tightly, pulling your leg up and around his hips.

You can feel his hard length pressing against your groin beneath his trousers. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in as close as physically possible to you.

He grips onto your waist, running his hands up inside your shirt and over your bare skin. His touch is like electricity and makes you feel alive. Something you haven't felt for months.

His lips break away from yours. 'Is this what you wanted?' he asks.  
'Yes,' you breathe as Mr Ren buries his face in your neck, lightly running his tongue over your skin.  
'Do you want me to fuck you?'  
'Yes!' you blurt out, unable to stop yourself.  
Mr Ren chuckles. 'Mmmm so eager for me. You need to earn it, baby girl.'  
With a coy smile, he steps away from you, the sudden loss of attention making you feel empty.

'Get on your knees.'  
'What?' You don't understand.  
'You heard me. Knees. Now. I want to see what else that smart mouth of yours can do.' 

_Oh._ You do as you are told and drop to the floor in front of him. He looks huge from this angle, all six foot three of him staring down at you. You suddenly feel intimidated. 

As Mr Ren approaches you, he unbuckles the belt on his trousers and lowers the zipper. One hand reaches out and lightly strokes the top of your head, encouraging you.  
'That's my good girl.'

He frees himself from the tight restraints of his trousers. If you felt intimidated before, it's nothing compared to how you felt now. He's huge. 

Mr Ren wraps one hand around the base of his enormous cock and strokes it gently.  
'Suck,' he instructs. 

Tentatively, you bring your head forwards and wrap your lips around the swollen head of his cock. Mr Ren moans.  
'Mmm that's it.'

Mr Ren wraps his fingers in your hair and forces your mouth down on his shaft. You take in as much of him as you can, feeling him pressing down the back of your throat. 

He guides your mouth up and down his length, coating it with saliva and establishing a steady rhythm. You wrap a hand around the base and move it in sync with your mouth in a pumping motion.

'Fuck, baby girl, that feels incredible.'  
Spurred on by his reaction, you continue to work his shaft, squeezing your hand tighter. You run your tongue from his balls right to the very tip.  
'Stop,’ he says, pulling away from you. ‘You're going to make me cum. And I don’t want to cum in your mouth. Not today.’

Mr Ren pulls you to your feet. He lifts your shirt up and over your head, and in one quick movement, effortlessly unclasps your bra. _He's clearly done that before,_ you can't help but think.

Your breasts are exposed to the cold air and Mr Ren runs a thumb around your erect nipple. It sends tingles throughout your body, right down to the bundle of nerves in between your legs. The arousal you felt for him was becoming undeniable.

'Get on the desk. Lie on your back.'  
You walk across the room as Mr Ren watches, practically undressing you with his eyes. You lie down across the length of the desk and he stands at one end, towering over you. 

He unbuttons his shirt and throws it to the floor, revealing his muscular chest and abdomen. He's exquisite; like a Greek god or renaissance painting come to life. Almost too perfect to be real.

Fuck, you want him so much. You have never wanted anyone or anything so much. Your arousal is reaching new heights and you can feel the wetness spreading in between your thighs as you gaze up at him. You had no idea anyone could make you feel like this.

Mr Ren tightly grabs your ankles and pulls you to the edge of the desk so that your legs are dangling down to the floor. 

One hand reaches between your legs and pulls your panties to one side.  
'My, my. So wet for me already,' he says and runs one finger down the length of your slick cunt, teasing you.

A moan escapes your lips. You needed more. You are desperate for attention and he knows it. Mr Ren runs his finger over his lips, before inserting it into his mouth and sucking hard.  
'You taste so good princess. I can't wait to fuck that sweet pussy of yours.'

He runs the head of his cock across your swollen clit, rubbing gently. It feels amazing, the tingling sensation becoming a persistent throb. You are completely and utterly at the mercy of Mr Ren. You needed him, badly, and in that moment, would do anything he asked of you.

‘Tell me how much you want it. Tell me how much you want my cock.’  
‘I-I need it, Mr Ren.’ You feel out of your depth, embarrassed almost. What little sexual experience you had was on an entirely different planet to the situation you currently found yourself in.

‘You need to do better than that, sweetheart.'  
'I need your cock, Mr Ren. I want it.'  
'Beg for it.'  
'Please, Mr Ren. Please, let me have it. Please, give it to me.’ 

He smiles down at you and then in one single move, slides himself inside you. You moan loudly, the sensation of him stretching you open is almost too much to handle. Mr Ren runs both hands down your body, over your breasts and firmly anchors them on your hips, gripping tightly.

He begins to move in and out, slowly, almost sensually at first. Mr Ren lets out a guttural moan, burying himself in your neck once more to plant kisses along your jawline.  
‘You’re so tight, Princess. You feel so good.’

He moves one hand to the small of your belly, just below the belly button, to hold you still on the table. One thumb reaches down and rubs your clit in a circular motion as he fucks you. The combined sensation drives you crazy. 

His thrusting picks up speed and it’s relentless; hard and fast, your bodies smacking against each other. It is taking every bit of concentration you have to not shout out aloud; you have never felt pleasure like this. You didn’t even know it was possible. Again and again repeatedly slams into you, with such force the entire desk shakes beneath you. 

You can feel the pressure between your legs building and know that your climax is approaching. Mr Ren can feel it too as you pulsate around him.

‘Are you going to cum for me? That’s it, I want you to cum all over my cock. When I tell you. After three. You ready, baby girl? One...two...three.’

His words push you over the edge and you explode around him, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you see stars. Your pussy clamps down on him, but Mr Ren is unforgiving, continuing to fuck you with the same tenacious pace. 

Your cunt is pulsating, squeezing him tightly as you ride out your orgasm. You feel euphoric; complete and whole. Mr Ren was incredible and unbelievably, he wanted...you.

'My turn now. I'm going to fill you up, Princess. I've got such a big load saved for you.'  
'Yes, give it to me.' 

'FUCK.' Mr Ren slams into you once more and you feel his hot seed hitting your inner walls as he comes undone. 'Holy shit,' he moans into your ear, nipping it with his teeth. 

He slows, both of you breathing heavily, your chests moving in unison. Mr Ren rests his forehead against yours for a moment and looks deep into your eyes.  
'Perfect,' he whispers, giving you a deep and lingering kiss. 

You could have stayed like that for hours. But eventually Mr Ren, pulls away from you. You feel his cum trickle down the inside of your thigh.

You reach for the box of tissues at the other end of the desk.  
'What are you doing?' Mr Ren has stopped buckling his belt and is watching you.

You blush with embarrassment. 'I just, well you know, wanted to clean myself up a bit.'  
'No.'  
'What?' You reach for the tissues again, but Mr Ren pushes them away from you.

'I said, _no._ Let me tell you exactly what you're going to do. You're going to pull your panties up and you're going to walk straight home. I want you to feel my cum _dripping_ down your legs. And when you get home, I want you to take those panties off and look at the filthy mess you've made in them. Do I make myself clear?'

You nod, unable to form a coherent sentence. No one has ever spoken to you like this before and it takes you by surprise. It was wrong, and yet so... _erotic._  
'That's my good girl.' 

You do as you are told and throw your clothes back on in silence, as Mr Ren does the same. You can’t help but watch him in awe. His cheeks are flushed and glowing, a light sheen of sweat coating his forehead from the exertion. His hair is messy and ruffled from the way you ran your fingertips through it. In truth, he’s never looked more beautiful. And he was yours. 

Once you are fully clothed, you pause. Was this a one off, or...something more? Mr Ren wouldn't be at school for the next two weeks. You weren't sure you could wait that long. 

‘When...um, when I am going to see you again?’  
Mr Ren doesn't immediately reply. You study him closely, trying to gauge what his response will be.

‘If we’re going to do this, we need to be more careful. We can’t let this happen at school again; it’s too risky.’  
‘Ok…’ If not at school, then where?

Almost as if he has read your thoughts, Mr Ren says ‘Come to my apartment. Friday night.’

His apartment? You, in his home? In his... _bed?_ It was almost laughable. But Mr Ren isn't laughing. He looks deadly serious. 

‘What, really? But what if someone finds out, or sees me, or-’  
‘Like I said; we need to be careful. Make sure you come in the evening, once it's dark. And you can’t tell anyone about us, do you understand?’  
‘Yes, of course.’  
‘Good.’

Mr Ren walks over to you and plants a lingering kiss on your lips, affectionately stroking your cheek with the side of his hand.  
‘I’ll see you on Friday then... _baby girl.’_

You were already counting down the minutes.


	16. No Going Back

Kylo POV

Despite Principal McGowan's obvious displeasure at your actions and the fate that awaited you in her office, you are still keen to get to work on Monday morning. Losing your job is the least of your concerns. You just want to make sure Y/N is ok. 

Half of the school had witnessed the events of the homecoming dance, so you are not surprised that once again, yours is the name on everyone’s lips. You do your best to ignore the murmurs and whispers as you walk with pace down the corridors. You have no time for childish gossip, nor did you care in the slightest what people thought of you. 

You have come to the conclusion that despite your best efforts, the yearning you feel towards Y/N cannot be extinguished. If anything, it has simply grown over time. Witnessing what happened to her has only cemented your true feelings. 

Now you are left with a dilemma. Do your best to ignore it and carry on with your life, forever feeling unsatisfied and miserable. Or...was there really another option? 

You push the thoughts to the back of your mind, as you arrive at the door of Principal McGowan's office. You knock once before entering. Dylan Johnson is already seated on one of the chairs opposite the Principal, staring down at his lap. You instantly feel the anger bubble up inside you again, but you force yourself to give a polite smile and sit down in the remaining empty chair. 

Principal McGowan returns your smile before turning to Dylan.  
'So Dylan, would you like to explain what happened on Saturday night?'  
'There's nothing to explain, Principal McGowan. He spiked Y/N. She told me it was him who gave her the whiskey,' you interject.  
'Well, Dylan?' 

'Look, it's true; I did give her a bit of whiskey. But I swear, I didn't know what was in it.'  
'Bullshit!'  
Principal McGowan shoots you a warning look. 'Enough, Mr Ren. Go on, Dylan.'  
'The hip flask; it... wasn't mine. Jake Reynolds gave it to me, it was never meant for Y/N. I would _never_ have offered it to her if I'd known what was in it.'  
'I see.'  
‘I know what a bad time she’s had. I _saw_ what happened last time when she...when she…' He doesn't seem to be able to finish that sentence. 'I would never have done anything to hurt her, I swear.’

Principal McGowan studies Dylan. Was she really going to believe this shit?  
'If what you've said is true, it does change things Dylan. I’ll need to verify what you’ve told me of course, and you were still in possession of alcohol on school property and are underage. You'll therefore be excluded for the remainder of the week.' 

What? Excluded for a week, was that it? ‘Principal McGowan, I really think-’  
‘It doesn’t matter what you think, Mr Ren,’ she snaps at you. ‘You made your feelings _very_ clear on Saturday night. I’m the Principal and the decision lies with myself only. Dylan, you may go. I need to speak with Mr Ren privately.’

He stands, sheepishly staring at the floor as he backs out of the room. You are furious. That piece of shit has basically got away scot free. You swallow down your anger. Now was not the time.

'Y/N came to see me this morning, Mr Ren. Practically begged me to let you stay. You've certainly made an impression on her.'  
_You don't know the half of it._

'She told me that you took her home, made sure she was alright after she'd been spiked.'  
'Anyone would've done the same.'  
'And you've been giving her extra help, I believe?'  
'Yes. It was clear to me that she needed a helping hand this year, after all that she's been through.'  
'Well, that's very good of you, Mr Ren. But it doesn't excuse the way you reacted and how you treated Dylan. You can't become physical with students like that.'

'I know. It was a mistake; I wasn't thinking. Look, Claire. I've not been completely honest with you. I've been undergoing therapy for the past few months. Anger management. I can usually keep myself under control, but on Saturday; I lost it. And you're right, it's completely inexcusable and I apologise.'  
'Whatever issues you have in your personal life is none of my business, but it can't affect the way you behave at work. Particularly if a student is involved.'

'I understand that. I can assure you, it won’t happen again. All I'm asking for is a chance. Please.'  
Principal McGowan removes her glasses and places them down on the desk, sighing. 'One more chance, Mr Ren. One more. But I promise you, if you ever behave so inappropriately towards one of my students again; I won't hesitate to fire you. Do you understand?'  
'Perfectly, Principal McGowan. And thank you. I promise you won't regret your decision.'  
‘I hope not. Oh and I think it will be best if you take a couple of weeks off. It’ll be good for you to have a bit of a break.’  
‘Of course.’ 

As you leave the principal's office, relief sweeps over you. By some miracle, you still have a job. You haven’t been fired. And it seems Y/N is partly responsible for that. 

You head back to your classroom and begin to pack away your laptop and tidy your desk. A week’s leave wasn’t exactly ideal, but all in all, you have managed to get away lightly. _No more cock ups, Kylo._

Someone knocks at your door. You invite them in and are surprised when Y/N appears before you. She looks tired, worn out, but for the most part - she seems ok. How much of Saturday night can she remember, you wonder. She was obviously aware that you'd driven her home; that was clear from what she'd told Principal McGowan, but what about the rest? Her behaviour in your car, the conversation, your... _confession._ Was she aware of what you’d told her?

'Y/N. I wasn't expecting to see you.'  
She can barely make eye contact with you. 'Don't worry, I’m not going to stay long. I just need to get something off my chest.' 

Oh? Your curiosity gets the better of you and you invite her forwards into your classroom. 'Please, go ahead.'

She takes a few hesitant steps towards you and stops just in front of your desk. She looks down at her hands, unusually shy considering her behaviour at the homecoming dance.

'Well, firstly, I-I wanted to um...apologise. For Saturday night. I can remember bits and pieces and well, I know my behaviour wasn’t exactly....appropriate. So I’m sorry if it made you feel awkward or uncomfortable.' 

She had made you feel a lot of things over the past few weeks, but definitely not uncomfortable. You have always felt the complete opposite with her, like you have known each other for years. As she talks, the familiar burning of desire within you is still present. What you would give to touch her right now, hold her. She was everything you wanted. Everything you needed. 

‘And I also wanted to say thank you,’ she continues. ‘For what you did for me. You didn't have to help me, but well...I'm grateful you did.' 

You can’t help but smile. She made it sound like you'd had a choice. 'You have nothing to apologise for. None of what happened was your fault, Y/N. Please remember that. I just wish I could have done more.' 

Y/N’s eyes travel over your pile of books ready to take home and your empty desk.  
'So anyway, what happened with Principal McGowan? You haven't lost your job, have you?' You notice a hint of panic in her voice. 

'No, not quite. I've been suspended for a couple of weeks whilst things cool off. But it could've been a lot worse. I guess I have you to thank for that.'

She blushes and shrugs. ‘I guess I just couldn’t bear the thought of you leaving. Anyway, I guess I should probably go.’ She turns to leave and grabs the door handle pulling it slightly ajar. 

What are you doing? You can’t leave things like this. You can’t let her walk away without knowing the truth, not after everything. 

'Wait! I have something I want to say too.' Y/N’s head whips round in surprise and she pauses at the door. You stand from your chair and walk around your desk to face her.

'I want you to know that I never asked for any of this. I never went looking for it, I never for a minute expected…what I'm trying to say is, I care about you, Y/N. More than you know.' 

Y/N looks shocked, dumbfounded even, at your words.  
'Saturday night, well it put a lot of things into perspective for me. Seeing you, in trouble like that. You needed me and I wasn't there to protect you. For that, I'm sorry.' You would never forgive yourself for letting her down like this. 

'It made me realise that maybe...maybe I don't have the strength to stay away from you anymore. I've tried, believe me I have. But I'm tired of pretending. I'm tired of playing this stupid game.'

You pause for a moment. Are you really going to do this? It was now or never, you are balancing on a precipice, about to fall into the unknown. But she had to know.  
'The truth is...I won't be satisfied until I have you. I want you to belong to me, and no one else. I want you to be mine.' 

Y/N blinks and is silent as she tries to process what you have told her.  
'Then take me,' Y/N whispers. 

Her words flick a switch in your mind and you can no longer hold yourself back. You walk over and delicately tuck her hair behind one ear. The familiar scent of her perfume fills your nose. You notice the rise and fall of her chest with every quick breath. You long to touch her. You lean in close and whisper  
'You really should be careful what you wish for.' 

Before she can respond, you give in completely to the animalistic urges you feel within. You force Y/N up against the door, her petite frame no match for your strength. You press your lips to hers, your tongue forcing its way into her mouth. She tastes unbelievable; deliciously sweet like honey and it spurs you on.

As your bodies press together, you lightly rub your erection against her crotch. You are already rock hard and want her to know it. Her legs part, allowing you to slide between them. You grab hold of one thigh and anchor her leg around your hip.

Y/N’s arms reach up and around your neck, pulling you down to her in an almost desperate manner. You want more, you _need_ more. Your hands snake underneath her shirt and over her bare skin. You run your fingernails across her back, lightly scratching. She moans into your mouth, the sensation visibly pleasing to her. 

'Is this what you wanted?' you ask. You need to hear her say it. You need to hear her beg for you.  
'Yes,' she replies.  
'Do you want me to fuck you?'  
'Yes!' Y/N exclaims, the urgency in her voice clear.

She is desperate for you. Good things come to those who wait, but you want to have a little fun first. And the thought of her lips around your cock is too much to ignore.  
‘So eager for me. You need to earn it, baby girl.' 

You step away from her, watching the confusion appear on her face.  
'Get on your knees,' you instruct.  
'What?' she frowns at you. 

Tut tut. You would have to teach little girl some obedience.  
'You heard me. Knees. Now. I want to see what else that smart mouth of yours can do.' 

Her eyes widen as she realises what you are asking her to do. Slowly, she sinks to the floor, those big beautiful eyes blinking up at you. Your cock is throbbing in your trousers, in desperate need of attention.

You unbuckle your pants and free yourself from your briefs. One hand cups the back of Y/N’s head, stroking her hair lightly.  
'That's my good girl.'

You wrap one hand around the base of your erection and stroke it gently. Jesus Christ, you are so fucking aroused.  
'Suck,' you tell her.  
Y/N juts her head forward and engulfs the head of your cock in her warm and inviting mouth. It feels unbelievable. You knot your fingers into the back of her hair, encouraging her to take more of you. She slides down your shaft until you are nearly completely enveloped in her mouth. 

You pull her head up again, to the very tip and feel her tongue swirl around the top. You start to fuck her mouth, forcing your cock in and out. Y/N wraps one hand around you to pump the base of your shaft in time with her mouth.  
'Fuck, baby girl, that feels incredible,’ you exclaim, unable to stop yourself. You haven’t been touched like this in months. 

She runs her tongue up the length of your shaft, eyes locked on yours. Her hand tightens around you and her mouth begins to move faster. Fuck, she's going to make you nut. But you aren't done with her yet.  
'Stop,’ you pull away from her. ‘You're going to make me cum. And I don’t want to cum in your mouth. Not today.’

You grab her hand and pull her to her feet, making quick work of her shirt and bra, as you effortlessly unclasp it and throw it to the floor. You run a thumb over Y/N’s already erect nipple and cup her full and firm breast, feeling her quiver beneath your touch. Her body is perfect. And now it is yours.

‘Get on the desk. Lie on your back.’ This time, Y/N follows your instructions immediately. There is no confusion about what you want from her. She rests herself back, her dark raven locks spilling all over the table. You walk to the end of the desk to stare down at her, not breaking eye contact for a moment. You remove your shirt, wanting to feel her naked skin against yours. 

Y/N gazes up at you wantonly. You can't wait to be deep inside her. You grab her delicate ankles tightly and pull her down the desk so that her ass is at the very edge. You crouch down between her legs and pull her delicate panties to one side, taking a deep breath as you are hit with the delicious scent of her arousal. Slowly, you run two fingers over the lips of her swollen pussy. She’s already soaking for you.

'My, my. So wet for me already.’ Y/N moans at your touch, bucking her hips ever so slightly. It is clear what she wants, but you aren’t quite done yet. You bring your fingers up to your lips and extend your tongue across them, before sucking hard. 

Y/N’s eyes widen as you tease her. 'You taste so good princess. I can't wait to fuck that sweet pussy of yours,' you tell her and position your cock at her entrance. You rub the head over her clit in circles, gently massaging her most sensitive area.

‘Tell me how much you want it. Tell me how much you want my cock.’  
Y/N blushes. ‘I-I need it, Mr Ren.’  
Clearly she wasn’t well practiced at this. ‘You need to do better than that, sweetheart.'  
'I need your cock, Mr Ren. I want it.'  
'Beg for it.'  
'Please, Mr Ren. Please, let me have it. Please, give it to me.’ It feels so good to hear the desperation in her voice.

You push inside her, completely sheathing yourself in her cunt. Holy fuck she’s tight. Her pussy grips your cock as you stretch her out. Y/N cries out loudly as she takes every inch of you. You run your hands over her body and down to her hips that you grab hold of to use as leverage. 

You start to fuck her, slowly at first, allowing her body to accommodate your length. She feels incredible, so warm and tight. The walls of her pussy repeatedly rub against you and you moan into Y/N’s neck, running a trail of kisses across her jaw.  
‘You’re so tight, Princess. You feel so good,’ you whisper into her ear.

Y/N is bucking her hips again, but you move one hand to her flat stomach, pinning her down on the desk and holding her still. Your thumb reaches down to rub against her clit whilst you fuck her. You pick up speed, pounding yourself into her cunt again and again. You feel her clench around you, can see in her eyes that she’s getting close. You can’t wait to watch her come undone.

‘Are you going to cum for me? That’s it, I want you to cum all over my cock.’ Y/N doesn’t respond. It seems she’s incapable of words. ‘When I tell you. After three. You ready, baby girl? One...two...three.’

Y/N shouts out, her eyes rolling back in her head in sheer euphoria as she reaches her climax. Her pussy squeezes you tightly, pulsating and throbbing around you. You can feel your own orgasm building as she milks your cock.  
'My turn now. I'm going to fill you up, Princess. I've got such a big load saved for you.'  
'Yes, give it to me,' she replies. Her reaction takes you by surprise and is enough to tip you over the edge. 

'FUCK,’ you shout as you explode, feeling the hot cum shoot deep inside her. ‘Holy shit,’ you can’t help but moan as you ride out your orgasm. Your whole body is shaking, finally achieving the sweet release you have been in need of for months. You give a final few thrusts, before slowing and eventually coming to a stop.

You try to catch your breath, the exhaustion hitting you. You rest your head against hers and look deep into those mesmerising brown eyes.  
'Perfect,' you whisper and lean in close to give her one final kiss.

You pull out of her, re-sheathing yourself in your boxers and trousers. You assess Y/N. Her skin is now flushed and glowing, her long hair a mess. The skin over her hips is pink from where you have tightly gripped her. Between her legs your seed trickles down her creamy thighs. She’s never looked more beautiful. 

Y/N props herself up on her elbows and reaches towards the box of tissues at the other end of the desk.  
'What are you doing?'  
If possible, her cheeks grow redder. 'I just, well you know, wanted to clean myself up a bit.'  
'No.'  
'What?' She reaches for the box again, so you walk over and push it out of her reach. You have a _much_ better idea. 

'I said, no. Let me tell you exactly what you're going to do. You're going to pull your panties up and you're going to walk straight home. I want you to feel my cum dripping down your legs. And when you get home, I want you to take those panties off and look at the filthy mess you've made in them. Do I make myself clear?'

Y/N looks shocked. It was easy to forget how young and probably inexperienced she was. Nevertheless, she nods and reaches for her discarded panties.  
'That's my good girl.' 

You dress in silence, reflecting on how things have developed and where they would go from here. There was no going back. Your relationship has forever changed and was no longer simply in the realm of a teacher and student. You were satisfied, but for how long? She was like a drug, and now that you’ve had one hit, you were already thinking about the next one.

‘When...um, when I am going to see you again?’ It seems Y/N is thinking the same thing. There are things however, that need to be considered. This should have never happened at school. It was way too dangerous, even for you. You are on extremely thin ice as it is. 

‘If we’re going to do this, we need to be more careful. We can’t let this happen at school again; it’s too risky.’  
‘Ok…’ 

There was only one option. ‘Come to my apartment. Friday night.’  
Y/N laughs. You raise an eyebrow at her response and she realises you are completely serious.  
‘What, really? But what if someone finds out, or sees me, or-’  
‘Like I said; we need to be careful. Make sure you come in the evening, once it's dark. And you can’t tell anyone about us, do you understand?’  
‘Yes, of course.’  
‘Good.’

You raise a hand and cup her face, stroking her cheek softly. You bend your head and give her one last lingering kiss. ‘I’ll see you on Friday then...baby girl.’

You can’t wait to be alone with her once more.


	17. An Evening Well Spent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's finally Friday and you make your way to Mr Ren's apartment.

Lying to your father wasn’t exactly something you _liked_ to do, but recently, it had become almost second nature. It wasn’t like he was the most attentive parent, anyway. Not since Mom had left. Between watching every single football game on TV and drinking himself into oblivion, there was very little time for you. You co-existed, shared the same house, but you weren’t a family. Not anymore. 

In reality, he probably wouldn’t even notice you sneaking out of the house on Friday evening. But these were not normal circumstances. You weren’t heading to some house party, or even to meet a boy from your class. You were going to see _Mr Ren._ A man twenty years older than you, who also happens to be your chemistry teacher. And he had made it crystal clear just how careful you needed to be. 

A cover story was required. Something to ensure that no suspicions would be raised. Obviously, saying you were with Armie was out of the question when he was only next door. It would be too easy for Dad to check in on you and discover you weren’t there. You were going to have to get inventive.

On Thursday evening, you decide to approach the subject. Dad is already three cans of beer down and is relaxing in his usual spot on the couch. You sit down beside him, suddenly feeling unusually nervous. 

‘Um, Dad? Can I talk to you for a minute?’  
‘Sure, sweetie. What's up?' he replies, his gaze fixed firmly on the Indianapolis Colts.  
‘Well erm, some girls in my class are having a sleepover after school tomorrow night. Do you think it would be ok if I went?’

He looks away from the TV and turns to you. ‘Girls? What girls?’ He sounds suspicious. Shit.  
‘Oh um, just a few from my Chemistry class.’  
‘I didn’t know you had any friends. Except Armie of course.’ _Jeez thanks Dad. Way to bruise the ego._

‘Well...exactly,' you continue. 'I thought it was time to try and make some new ones.’  
He considers what you have said for a moment. ‘Sure hun, of course you can go. You spend far too much time with that boy anyway. It'll be nice for you to have some girl friends.’  
‘Thanks Dad.’ 

You feel a pang of guilt as you head back upstairs to your room, but it soon disappears when you glance at your phone and see you have a message from Mr Ren.

_Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow night. Here’s my address._

Mr Ren’s apartment block was part of a new development on the other side of town. The kind of place that had been advertised as _luxury_ and _five star._ The thought of you walking into one of those buildings is completely ridiculous and you already begin to feel anxious.

You reply _Me too. See you tomorrow_ and then head to bed for an early night. You are sure you’re going to need it.

At school the next day, time seems to have slowed to an almost unmoving rate. The hours are dragging and you are counting down the minutes till 3pm. As you sit with Armie in the canteen at lunch, you are faced with another problem.

'You want to do something tonight?’ he asks, taking a bite of pizza.  
_Shit shit shit._ 'Oh, I'm really sorry but I can't tonight. I...have plans.'  
Armie's eyes narrow with suspicion. 'Plans? With who? Doing _what?'_  
'Just...you know. A guy.'  
'The same guy that took a chunk out of your neck, you mean?' he says, disapprovingly.  
'Maybe.'  
'Seriously though, who is it?’  
‘I told you, it’s-’  
‘Complicated, I know. But we’re friends, Y/N. _Best_ friends. I thought we could tell each other anything.’ Armie is visibly hurt and you are overwhelmed with guilt.  
‘We are best friends, Armie. But this is...I can’t…’  
‘Fine, forget it. Just be careful, ok?’ 

Armie was only looking out for you; you knew that. Lying to him was so much harder than lying to your Dad. But what choice did you have? Mr Ren had made it explicitly clear that you couldn’t tell anyone. Not even him.

Finally, the school bell goes at the end of the day and you leave in a hurry, eager to get to Mr Ren's apartment. You check your phone again for the address he has sent you and hop on the bus into town. 

As you pay your fare and take a seat, you can't help but feel paranoid and on edge, as if everyone is watching you. Your anxiety levels are getting dangerously high. The last thing you needed right now was another public breakdown. 

You insert your headphones into your ears and turn the volume up full whack in an attempt to distract yourself. You watch the raindrops hit the window and run down the pane of glass as the bus trundles along through the town. 

You are excited as to what the evening would bring. Not just the sex, which was beyond even your wildest fantasies, but you are looking forward to seeing Mr Ren’s home. His belongings, his possessions, where he spends most of his time. At this point you have only ever seen him in one setting; school. You can’t wait to see this other side of him. 

As you jump off the bus, you pull the hood of your jacket over your head, trying to appear as inconspicuous as possible. It is just reaching dusk, the sun slowly setting as you make the short walk to the apartment block. 

The building itself is impressive; sky high, modern and almost completely glass. There was even a doorman waiting to open one of the huge gold plated doors at the entrance. 

You head into the foyer and look around, trying to figure out where to go next.  
‘Are you lost?’ a voice calls out to you. A snooty looking man from behind the concierge desk is staring down his nose at you.  
'Oh, hi. I'm looking for apartment 2187.'  
He raises an eyebrow in surprise. 'Oh well, you'll be wanting to head to the top floor then. It's one of the penthouse apartments.'  
Your mouth falls open. Mr Ren lived in a… _penthouse?_ Holy crap. You try to hide your shock. ‘Great. Thanks.’  
‘The lifts are to your right. Just over there.’

You head into the lift and press the button for the 20th floor. The doors close and you shoot upwards, your ears popping at the change in altitude. Eventually, you grind to a stop and the lift pings as the doors slide open. Your heart rate accelerates as you exit and begin to walk down the long corridor. You reach a door with the numbers 2187 emblazoned on it. To the side of the door is an intercom system. You hesitate for a moment before pressing the button. 

‘Hello?’ the deep familiar tones of Mr Ren’s voice come from the speaker.  
‘It’s me. Y/N,’ you respond.  
‘I’m just finishing off in the shower. I’ll buzz you in.’ The voice disappears, and sure enough, moments later the door opens. You push it open and step into Mr Ren’s apartment. 

There is no immediate sign of him as you walk into the entrance hall. You walk through into the living area and can’t help but gasp. Mr Ren’s penthouse is nothing short of luxurious. The decor is modern, simplistic and monochrome, with the open plan lounge leading straight through into an enormous kitchen, complete with an island and black marble worktops. A vast, wooden bookshelf takes up one side of the room, lined with hundreds of books. The fourth wall comprises solely of ceiling to floor windows that give an incredible view of the town. The sun was finally down and the bright lights of houses and cars twinkle back at you. 

You stand awkwardly in the middle of the room, clutching your bag, not wanting to touch any of Mr Ren’s pristine furniture. How much had this all cost him? Surely this was way out of budget for someone living on a teacher’s salary. 

‘You made it here ok then?’ a voice from behind you asks, interrupting your thoughts and making you jump. You whip your head around. Mr Ren is standing at the doorway of an adjacent room that you assumed must be a bedroom. He is fresh out of the shower, his dark hair still damp and cheeks rosy from the heat of the water. 

‘Yes, fine,’ you reply, trying to ignore the incessant aching between your legs that seemed to start up whenever Mr Ren was around.  
‘And no one knows you’re here?’  
‘No. My Dad thinks I’m at a sleepover.’  
‘Good.’  
‘This place...it’s incredible.’  
Mr Ren smiles. ‘I’m glad you approve. Would you like to see the bedroom?’

You nod and follow him, expecting to be led into the room that he had appeared from. Instead however, he takes you back to the entrance hall and to another door, holding it open for you and inviting you in.

Much of the room you are now standing in is taken up by an enormous four poster bed, made up with dozens of pillows and silky satin sheets. The only other piece of furniture in the room is a wooden cabinet with multiple drawers. Mr Ren really was taking the minimalistic decor to the extreme. 

You stand at the foot of the bed, unsure of what to do next. You hear the door close behind you and suddenly, a pair of hands wrap themselves around your waist. You can feel Mr Ren’s breath against your cheek as he bends his head to nuzzle at your neck. 

His hands move across your stomach and continue south, right to your crotch. Mr Ren begins to rub you through your clothes, pressing his fingers right up against your clit. You moan, relaxing your body against his and grinding yourself onto his hand. 

‘That’s it baby. Surrender to me.’ His lips nip and suck at your neck as he continues to play with you. You can feel his hard length pressed up against your ass, so you push back on it, slowly rotating your hips. 

‘You naughty girl,’ he whispers. ‘Take your clothes off.'  
You pull your jumper over your head and shuffle out of your jeans until you are left stood in nothing but your panties and bra. Mr Ren is watching you, his eyes boring into yours with an almost fascinated curiosity. 

'All of them, sweetheart.'  
You unclasp your bra and let it fall off your arms and onto the floor. You hook your thumbs into the sides of your panties and lower them down your legs, until you are left standing completely naked. Mr Ren's eyes travel over you.  
'Good girl. Get on the bed.' 

You climb on top of the mattress and sit at the foot of the bed, watching Mr Ren intently.  
'Before we go any further, I need you to understand something. I want to be honest with you. If we’re really going to do this, you need to know what you’re signing up for.’  
‘Ok…,’ you say, feeling somewhat panicked.  
‘My sexual desires are far from what you might call... _vanilla.'_  
'What do you mean?'  
'I like to be in control. I like to... _dominate_ the women I am with. I don't _make love._ I fuck. Hard. And I'd like to do the same with you. But I won't do anything without your consent.' 

You are unsure of exactly what agreeing to his proposition will entail, but there was no denying, you are curious. That and the throbbing between your thighs that was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. You nod. 'Ok.' 

Mr Ren breaks into a smile. 'Good girl. Now lie back for me.'  
As your head hits the pillows, you hear him pull open a drawer of the dresser. You crane your neck slightly, trying to get a glimpse of what he is doing. 

He has removed an item from the drawer that he is now clasping in one hand. A long, dark length of rope. He takes off his glasses and leaves them lying on top of the cabinet.

Mr Ren walks over to one side of the bed and gazes down at you, his eyes running over your naked body, taking you in. 'Arms above your head.’  
You comply and Mr Ren leans down over you, grabbing both wrists and easily encapsulating them in his large grip. With his other hand, he wraps the rope around them and pulls tightly, securing them together with a knot. 

Mr Ren walks to the end of the bed and peels your legs apart, spreading them wide on the bed. You gently try to wriggle your hands, but are unable to do so, the rope rubbing against your skin.

He reaches down and delicately runs his fingers between your legs, so lightly it tickles, before raising his hand and smacking your pussy hard. You let out a squeal of surprise as the pressure sends vibrations of pleasure straight to your clit.

'What a greedy little cunt. Look at how wet you are already. Tell me, what would you like me to do?’  
Your pussy is aching for him and you can’t control yourself. ‘Touch me!’ you burst out.  
Mr Ren smirks at you ‘Ask nicely.’  
‘Please, touch me.’  
‘Better. You’ll remember your manners in future.’

Mr Ren seats himself in between your legs and inserts a finger inside you, slowly moving it in and out. You moan, hungry for attention and buck your hips off the bed in response. 

He inserts a second thick finger and scissors them gently, stretching you out. You grind down onto Mr Ren's hand, the friction sending ripples of satisfaction through your body.

His fingers pick up speed, mercilessly thrusting in and out and repeatedly hitting the dripping walls of your pussy. Mr Ren's eyes watch you hungrily as you tremble with pleasure beneath him.

He crooks his fingers inside you to rub against your sweet spot. You clench around him, the sensation becoming almost too much as he hits your most sensitive area again and again. The pleasure is overwhelming; you are almost delirious as you writhe around on the bed at the complete mercy of Mr Ren. 

‘You like that don’t you, my little slut. You want to cum all over Daddy’s fingers?’  
‘Yes! Fuck yes!’ You can feel yourself coming undone. Mr Ren leers at you.  
‘You’ll have to wait, Princess.’  
He withdraws his fingers and you whimper at the sudden loss of friction.  
‘You cum only when I say you can cum. Do you understand?’

In one quick movement, Mr Ren flips you onto your stomach, hands still restrained above your head. As you lie with your face down on the bed, you hear him remove his clothes and throw them to the floor.

Within seconds, Mr Ren is back on top of you, his breath hot on the back of your neck, the weight of his muscular body pinning you down. He moves your hair to one side and begins planting kisses all over your shoulder.

You feel his hard cock digging into your ass, so you grind back on it, rubbing and teasing him with your body. He lets out a low moan. ‘Fuuuuck, you know just what to do baby girl,’ he whispers into your ear. You can’t help but smile. You love the effect you have on him.

‘Ass in the air,’ Mr Ren instructs as he pulls away from you. You do as you are told and push up on all fours, wiggling your hips at him and giving a coy smile over your shoulder.  
‘Fuck, you look so good like this.’ 

He runs one hand over your hips and ass cheeks, lightly stroking and squeezing, before suddenly bringing his palm down sharply to spank you. It stings your skin, but doesn't exactly feel unpleasant.  
‘Do you like that, slut?’ he asks and brings his hand down on your ass once more. You cry out again. ‘Mmmm, I think you do.’  
He hits your behind again, this time catching you right across your pussy. ‘Fuck!’ you shout.

You feel his length pressing against your entrance as he runs the head of his cock up and down your pussy lips, coating it with your juices. You are aching, in desperate need of him as you squirm against him, seeking out more friction.  
.  
Without warning, Mr Ren rams himself into you and this time, he does not go easy on you. He is unforgiving, repeatedly slamming himself in and out, using your hips as leverage to fuck you at a ferocious speed. Your bodies smack together with the sound of skin hitting skin and his hands grip you ever harder as he forces himself deeper and deeper into your cunt. 

One hand reaches up to the back of your neck, his fingers enclosing around your throat and squeezing tightly.  
‘That’s right, take my cock. Take it like a good little whore,’ Mr Ren tells you. His words only turn you on more and your pussy clenches tightly around him as he continues to pump in and out. Your breathing is getting faster, heavier as you feel the familiar pressure building between your legs, but before you can reach the sweet release, Mr Ren pulls out of you. 

He flips you over again so that you are staring up at him, your eyes locking with his brooding hazel pair. ‘I thought I told you, you only cum when I say. And I'm not done with you yet.’ He grabs the sides of your face with his hand and squeezes, forcing your lips to part. He leans his face down close to yours and then spits directly into your open mouth.  
‘Swallow,’ he orders. 

He inserts himself back inside you and you moan at his girth stretching you open once more. Mr Ren's hands travel up your body as he fucks you, roughly squeezing your tits and tweaking your nipples, before snaking his hands around your throat once more as he pins you to the bed. He stares straight into your eyes with an intensity you have never seen before. 

You can feel yourself getting close again, your walls contracting around him. You buck your hips in time with each brutal thrust as Mr Ren pummels into you again and again. Your breathing is heavy, the sweat dripping off of both your bodies as you reach the very precipice of pleasure.  
‘You want to cum, baby?’ he grunts into your ear.  
‘Yes, please Mr Ren, please let me cum!’  
‘That’s right, I want you to cum with me. Ready sweetheart? Cum now. Cum all over my cock.’

The pleasure bursts through you like a white hot heat. You shatter around him as your orgasm rips through your whole body. You convulse on the bed, clamping down around his hard member and feel the warm spurt of hot cum inside you as Mr Ren reaches his own climax. 

'FUCK!' He moans into your neck and bites down hard, his hands roughly gripping your hair and pulling your head back sharply. 

His thrusting slows as he fills you up with his seed and you ride out your orgasms together. Eventually the grip on your hair loosens and Mr Ren collapses on top of you, completely spent. You are breathless and drenched in sweat, your hair sticking to your forehead. The musky scent of sex is heavy in the air and you feel suddenly exhausted, like you could sleep for days.

Mr Ren rolls onto his back next to you. You turn to gaze at him, once again mesmerised by his beauty. You don't think you'll ever get bored of looking at him. His perfect body, the map of freckles painted across his flawless face and his incredible eyes. Not quite brown, not quite green but somewhere in between. Deep and soulful, they come alive with emotion and captivate you completely. 

He wraps a strong arm around your shoulder and pulls you in close to lay on his chest. One hand reaches up to stroke your hair softly as he plants a kiss on your forehead. 

‘That was...holy shit.’ You didn’t have the words for what you have just experienced.  
Mr Ren chuckles. ‘ _That_ was only the beginning, sweetheart. Now, try and get some rest. You’re going to need it.’


	18. Good Girl

Kylo POV 

Friday evening couldn't come quickly enough. Your temporary suspension has left you with a lot of unwanted time on your hands, and though you hated to admit it; you were bored. 

You liked the routine, structure and sense of purpose your job gave you. Without it, you feel uncomfortably on edge. Like you are losing control. 

By the time your weekly session with Christine rolls around, you are glad to get out of the apartment and have a distraction from your thoughts. 

Living inside your own head was one of your more annoying habits and left to your own devices, you found yourself over thinking and over analysing everything. It was exhausting. 

Your enthusiasm quickly disappears however, when Christine greets you with a look of complete disappointment. The kind of look a parent gives their child when they are about to chastise them. 

'Is there anything you'd like to tell me, Kylo?' she asks as you sit down opposite her.  
'Nope. Don't think so. Nothing of importance, anyway,' you shrug casually.

Christine raises her eyebrow at you, seeing straight through the air of nonchalance you were trying to project. ‘There was an incident at work last week, was there not?' 

So she knew. _Shit._ ‘Ah. Principal McGowan contacted you, I presume?’  
‘She did, yes. Shall we talk about it?’  
'Do I have a choice?'  
‘You always have a choice, Kylo. But I think it’s important that we discuss it.’ 

You sigh. ‘I may have....overreacted.’  
‘You threatened a student, is that correct?’  
‘Things got a little out of hand, I suppose. It was a stupid mistake. One that won’t happen again. ’  
‘And this threat was physical in nature?’  
‘Yes.’

Christine looks far from impressed. She removes her glasses and places them down on the desk, sighing. 

‘Kylo, I told you that I wouldn’t sign you off on these sessions unless I thought you’d made a vast improvement to yourself and your behaviour. From what I’ve seen so far, you’ve been making very little effort to change the way you act. Your anger is clearly not under control, and you still respond to stressful situations with violence.’

She has a point. Things had gone too far at the homecoming dance You couldn't afford to fuck up like this again. 

'I'm going to recommend you have another six weeks of sessions, _minimum._ After that, I shall determine if you’ve made any significant progress.’   
Fucking perfect.

You leave Christine’s office highly irritated and in a foul mood. Another six weeks of sessions to look forward to. You were practically back to square one. 

_You only have yourself to blame, Kylo,_ you tell yourself. _Why can’t you just get a fucking hold on your temper?_

You pull your phone out and type a message to Y/N, desperate for some form of distraction.  
 _Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow. Here's my address._

She replies almost instantly.   
_Me too. See you tomorrow._

A broad smile spreads across your face for the first time in days. 

You spend the following morning preparing for Y/N’s arrival. You have set the bedroom up, the huge bed covered in soft, fresh sheets and your cabinet of toys fully stocked. 

This isn't your bedroom, of course. It contained no personal items and certainly wasn't where you slept each night. The clear definition between the different aspects of your life was important to you. You didn't like things to become... _blurred._ There were some parts that you didn't want Y/N to know about. 

You have however, made the decision to be completely honest and transparent with her about your specific sexual _preferences._ You had been holding back during your last encounter and although you don’t want to scare her away, she needed to fully understand exactly what she was getting herself involved in. 

The sun has just started to dip lower in the sky, painting your apartment in a deep orange hue. You glance at your watch. It's just after 3pm. Y/N would be leaving school soon and making her way across town to you. 

You head back into your bedroom and through to the en suite. You strip off and jump in the shower, feeling your muscles relaxing under the powerful jets of hot water. You lather the soap, running it all over your body so that streams of tiny bubbles cascade down your torso. 

You feel a jolt of excitement at the impending arrival of Y/N. Having her here, in your apartment; you had never for a moment imagined that this is where things would lead. It was wrong, you knew that, and if anyone ever found out…

Maybe that’s why you couldn’t get enough of her. The thrill, the _danger,_ the threat of you getting caught. Whatever it was, it was unrelenting. 

The buzzer for the intercom goes. You turn the shower off, quickly wrapping a towel around your waist and head to the control panel in your bedroom.

'Hello?' you say into the speaker.  
'It's me. Y/N.' Her voice fills the room.   
'I'm just finishing off in the shower. I'll buzz you in.'

You press the button to open the front door for her, then hastily throw on a pair of jeans and a t- shirt, before spraying your favourite cologne onto your neck. You fasten your watch back on your wrist and head out of the bedroom. 

Y/N is standing in the middle of the lounge, taking in her surroundings with an expression of almost child like wonder. She walks over to the bookcase and runs her long fingers over the shelves, studying the dozens of books that fill them. You lean against the door frame and watch her for a moment, captivated. 

'You made it here ok then?' you ask, finally breaking the silence.  
She spins around, at first startled by your voice, but her face relaxes when she sees you. 

‘Yes, fine.'   
‘And no one knows you’re here?’   
‘No. My Dad thinks I’m at a sleepover.’  
‘Good.’ That gave you tonight, tomorrow morning maybe, before she'd be expected back home.

‘This place...it’s incredible,’ she says, gazing up at the high ceilings.  
You smile at her. Money has never been a priority to you, but being able to live more than comfortably was the only perk of coming from the family you did. Part of you is secretly thrilled with how impressed she is. 

‘I’m glad you approve. Would you like to see the bedroom?’  
Her eyes widen at your less than subtle suggestion, but she nods and follows you back through into the entrance hall. You hold the door open for her and she steps into the room, stopping just shy of the bed. You shut the door firmly and then approach Y/N from behind. 

Your arms wrap around her waist and you bend your head, breathing the scent of her hair in deeply. One hand reaches down to the crotch of her jeans to massage her sweet spot. Y/N's body relaxes against you and a whimper escapes her lips. Her hips gyrate slowly against your hand as she seeks out more friction.

'That's it baby, surrender to me,' you whisper into her ear. You're already rock hard beneath your pants and your erection is pushing up against Y/N's ass. She wriggles against you, rubbing it gently with her backside. She knows exactly what she's doing.

'You naughty girl.' You can't wait any longer. You need to be inside her again. 'Take your clothes off.'

She turns to face you and pulls her sweater over her head, revealing a delicate lace bra that her breasts are threatening to spill out of. Your cock twitches at the sight. She unbuttons her jeans slowly and shuffles out of them, until she is standing in nothing but her underwear. Y/N pauses. She looks up at you shyly. 

'All of them sweetheart,' you encourage her.   
Tentatively, she reaches to her back, unclasps her bra and lets it fall to the floor. 

You take in the beauty of her naked body; every inch of bare skin, every freckle, every curve.   
'Good girl. Get on the bed.' 

Y/N does what you ask of her and clambers onto the bed, where she sits cross legged at the very foot. You hold back, knowing that first, you need to tell her the truth.

'Before we go any further, I need you to understand something. I want to be honest with you. If we’re really going to do this, you need to know what you’re signing up for.’ 

She looks confused. ‘Ok…'  
‘My sexual desires are far from what you might call... _vanilla.'_  
'What do you mean?' she asks, magnifying her naivety. 

'I like to be in control. I like to...dominate the women I am with. I don't make love. I fuck. Hard. And I'd like to do the same with you. But I won't do anything without your consent.' 

It is impossible for Y/N to hide her obvious shock at your blunt honesty, but she doesn't immediately run for the hills, which is reassuring. 

'Good girl. Now lie back for me.' As she lowers herself back onto the bed, you reach into the top drawer of your cabinet and pull out your favourite thick, black rope. You remove your glasses and make your way over to the side of the bed.

'Arms above your head,' you instruct. Y/N complies, stretching her long arms out along the bed. You bend down to her and grab both tiny wrists in one hand. With the other, you wrap the rope around them tightly, tying them together in a solid restraint. There was no way she'd be able to get out of that. 

You walk to the end of the bed and bend Y/N's legs up, then push her knees apart, relieving her already glistening pussy. 

You run your finger from one end, all the way up to her swollen clit, feeling the juices of her arousal that were already present. You raise your hand and bring it down hard across her skin. Y/N squeals and jumps beneath you, the sensation clearly not anticipated. 

'What a greedy little cunt. Look at how wet you are already. Tell me, what would you like me to do?’ You enjoy toying with her. You like watching her squirm, hearing the desperation in her voice as she begs for your cock. 

‘Touch me!’ she pleads, practically shouting at you.  
‘Ask nicely.’  
‘Please, touch me.’  
‘Better. You’ll remember your manners in future.’

Y/N is rewarded by a finger being inserted into her dripping pussy. She bucks her hips as you begin to pleasure her with your hand, slowly rotating it in and out as you stroke the softness of her inner walls. 

Her reaction spurrs you on and you add a second finger, separating them widely to stretch her out. You repeatedly pump faster and faster, as Y/N begins to lose control. Her moans get louder, her body begins to tremble on the bed beneath you. 

As you bend your fingers upwards to hit her G spot, you feel her pussy clamp down around you in response. You know she's close, her breathing getting faster, her whole body tensing. 

‘You like that don’t you, my little slut. You want to cum all over Daddy’s fingers?’  
‘Yes! Fuck yes!’ she cries.   
‘You’ll have to wait, Princess.’ You remove your fingers and Y/N gives you a look of horror at the sudden loss of friction.

You stare down at her, arms still tied above her head, legs spread wide, a small damp patch appearing on the sheets beneath her ass. It really is a beautiful sight.   
‘You cum only when I say you can cum. Do you understand?’

You don't wait for a response, instead flipping her on the bed so that she is now lying on her stomach. You quickly free yourself of your clothes and then lie on top of her, desperate to feel her skin on yours. 

Her ass is pushed right up against your cock and Y/N grinds back on it. The blood rushes to your groin as she rubs against you and you moan, unable to stop yourself.   
‘Fuck, you know just what to do baby girl.' 

You pull away from her. 'Ass in the air.'  
She bends up onto her knees, leaving her head lying on the pillow. She looks incredible, the angle accentuating her tiny waist and wide set hips. Y/N looks over her shoulder at you, giving you a flirtatious smile. Your cock pulsates at the sight of her. 

‘Fuck, you look so good like this,' you say and run a hand over the soft, velvety skin of her hips and ass. You squeeze her cheek gently, before raising your palm and bringing it down hard. Her pale skin reddens beautifully from the impact. 

'Do you like that slut?' you ask, spanking her hard again. Y/N cries out, but it is one of pleasure, not pain. 'I think you do,' you smile.

This time, you bring your hand down right across her cunt. It has the desired effect.  
'Fuck!' she wails, burying her face into the sheets.

Your cock is throbbing and you can't hold back much longer. You need to be buried inside of her once more. You run the very tip of your long length over the entrance to her slick pussy. Y/N wriggles against you in encouragement.

You push into her hard and fast, forcing the whole length of your cock inside her pussy. Your hands grab a hold of her hips and repeatedly force her body up and down on your shaft. She feels unbelievable, her inner walls clenching around your cock with a vice like grip. You speed up your thrusts, pounding into her time and time again.

One hand snakes up to the back of her delicate neck and grips her throat tightly, feeling the blood pumping fast beneath your fingers. It incites an almost animalistic feeling within you and you slam into her with every ounce of strength you have. 

‘That’s right, take my cock. Take it like a good little whore.' She was made to be fucked like this. Her peachy ass bouncing against you with each thrust, her wide hips giving you perfect leverage, the way her long raven hair spilled in waves over the bed. She is perfection. 

Her breathing is getting faster, and heavier as she approaches her climax. No. You need her to cum with you. You want to be in control of it. You want her to cum when you tell her to and not a second before. 

You pull out of her sharply and Y/N whimpers at the loss of your your cock. You flip her onto her back, her big brown eyes staring up at you once more. 

‘I thought I told you, you only cum when I say. And I'm not done with you yet.’   
How far could you push her today? you wonder. You decide to test the waters and grab her face, forcing her mouth open. You lean in close and spit into her mouth in an act of pure dominance.   
‘Swallow,’ you order.

Y/N doesn't look disgusted, the exact opposite in fact, as she smirks up at you and closes her mouth, running her tongue along her lips as she swallows. _Fuck._

You push back into her, groaning at the sensation of pressure around your shaft once more. Your hands travel up her perfect body, roughly squeezing her ample breasts and pinching her erect nipples. 

You reach her neck once more and press her down into the bed, pinning her beneath you. Her eyes meet yours and you cannot look away; she is hypnotising as she bores right into you. You feel connected to her in a way you didn't know was possible. You barely knew her, but suddenly, somehow, she was...everything.

Both of you are getting close, reaching the peak of pleasure together. Your bodies are sticky with sweat, your breath hot and heavy from the sheer ferocity of the force you are fucking her with. 

Y/N tightens around you again and you know that her climax is imminent. This time,   
‘You want to cum, baby?’   
‘Yes, please Mr Ren, please let me cum!’ she begs you.  
‘That’s right, I want you to cum with me. Ready sweetheart? Cum now. Cum all over my cock.’

With your permission, Y/N clamps down on you hard as she comes undone, writhing around on the sheets. Her cunt squeezes and milks your cock and watching her ride out her orgasm pushes you over the edge. 

The wave of pleasure takes over and you cum violently, filling her up with your seed and burying your face into her neck, where you bite down hard to stop yourself from crying out. One hand wraps into her long hair, pulling it roughly.

You continue to thrust into her, pushing your hot liquid deeper and deeper inside her throbbing pussy and making her take every last drop. 

As your orgasm eventually begins to wear off, you slow your movements, until finally, you are both still. You feel suddenly exhausted, your forehead slick with sweat from the effort. Y/N is catching her breath, her body still twitching from her climax. 

You pull out of her gently and watch the creamy white liquid trickle down between her legs. She was yours now. She belonged to you. No one else would ever touch her again. 

You roll onto your back next to her, basking in the warming glow of your orgasm. You feel tired, but content. Y/N snuggles into your chest and you wrap an arm around her, pulling her in closer. 

As you plant a kiss on the top of her head, she whispers ‘That was... _holy shit.’_ It seems you have left her speechless. She has no idea what you have planned for her.

‘That was only the beginning, sweetheart. Now, try and get some rest. You’re going to need it.’

Y/N has been such a good girl, and the way she has taken everything in her stride has impressed you. But you have only shown her the very tip of the iceberg. And now you want more.


	19. Secrets

Y/N POV 

You awake with a jolt and rub your eyes sleepily, stretching and yawning in the bed. You feel refreshingly rested and judging by the bright sunlight streaming through the curtains, have been asleep for hours.

As your unfamiliar surroundings begin to come into focus, you suddenly feel disoriented and start to panic when you realise you are not in your room. 

The feeling is fleeting however, as almost instantly, you remember. Mr Ren. You are in his apartment. In his _bed._ The notion seems so ridiculous, you wouldn't have been surprised if it _had_ all been a dream. And yet here you are. 

Last night had been...well, incredible. It sounds stupid, but you'd had no idea sex could be like that. So satisfying. So... _enjoyable._

Mr Ren was a far cry from the boys you had been with before. He was a man. Mature. Sophisticated. Experienced. And you couldn't get enough of him.

You grin into the pillow and feel around for him next to you, but your hands are met with nothing but empty mattress and sheets. He wasn't there. You are alone. You immediately sit upright in the nest of covers, a fresh wave of anxiety creeping over you. 

There is no sign of Mr Ren as you look around the empty room. How long have you been asleep? With no clock in sight, you realise you have no idea what the time is.

Actually, now that you noticed, there wasn't much of _anything_ in the room, except the bed of course. That and the mysterious cabinet Mr Ren had pulled the rope from.

What else was he hiding in there? Mr Ren wouldn't mind if you took a look, would he? Your curiosity spurrs you on and you throw the covers off yourself.

As you gingerly shuffle to the edge of the bed, you notice a fluffy, white robe has been laid out for you. You stand and wrap it around your naked body, the soft material feeling heavenly on your bare skin. 

You make your way over to the cabinet and notice an uncomfortable throbbing in your groin as you walk. You are sore; last night's exploits still having a physical effect on your body. 

You run your fingers over the hard wooden surface, before tracing them across the top drawer and metal handle. You are itching to see what is inside. Before you can stop yourself, you open the top drawer and can't help but gasp at what you find inside. It is full to the brim with an array of objects that could only be used for one thing. The sight of them alone is enough to turn your cheeks pink. 

Metres of rope, handcuffs, restraints and chains, leather whips and a few items that even you didn’t recognise. It seems Mr Ren hadn’t been lying when he said that last night was only the beginning. The idea induces a fresh aching between your legs. 

The smell of something delicious cooking wafts into the room and distracts you. _Bacon._ You are suddenly ravenous, your belly gurgling at the thought of food. You close the drawer and tentatively head out of the bedroom, following the mouth watering scent with your nose.

As you enter the vast open kitchen, Mr Ren is standing at the stove with his back to you, whistling away to the upbeat music blaring out of a radio. You love seeing him like this. Happy. Carefree.

You tiptoe across the cold marble tiles and clear your throat. Mr Ren swiftly turns and greets you with a wide smile.

'Ah, you're awake. Hungry?'  
'Starving.'  
'I'm not surprised after your performance last night.' He winks at you over his shoulder and you can’t help but blush. 'Have a seat, it won't be long.'

You settle on one of the barstools positioned on the other side of the island counter and watch Mr Ren as he cooks. Your eyes rake over his wide back and shoulders, the muscles rippling beneath his taut t-shirt as he clasps the frying pan tightly in his grip. How could it be possible that he wanted _you?_

What if he got bored of you? What if as quickly as it started, it was all over? You close your eyes for a moment, trying to shake the horrifying thoughts that were beginning to creep in.

‘You ok?' Mr Ren asks as he places a plate and a set of cutlery down in front of you.  
'Yes. Fine. Thanks, Mr Ren.' He laughs and you feel your face redden.  
'You don't have to call me that here, you know. My name is Kylo. I want to hear you say it.'

'Ok, thanks... _Kylo_.' His real name sounds odd coming out of your mouth. It would definitely take some getting used to.

You pop a forkful of pancake and syrup into your mouth. It's delicious; the pancakes fluffy and light, the sweetness of the syrup cutting through the salty bacon perfectly. Was there anything he couldn't do? You hastily shovel down more. 

Kylo doesn’t eat, but instead watches you intently over a mug of black coffee. You feel almost shy as he gazes at you with a look of fascination. Like he’s trying to figure you out. 

Something has been playing on your mind since you had arrived at his apartment. You don’t want to offend Kylo, of course, but you can’t deny that you are curious. You swallow down your food and clear your throat. 

'Can I ask you something?'  
Kylo looks surprised, but nods. 'Of course.'  
'And if you don't want to answer, I totally get it.'  
'Well, now I'm just intrigued...' 

You take a deep breath. 'You're a high school chemistry teacher. And this place...well, it’s the nicest apartment I’ve ever seen. By a long, long way. It’s incredible.’

‘But?’ Kylo says in anticipation.  
‘How on earth can you afford it?'  
He raises an eyebrow at your brash questioning, making you instantly regret saying anything.

'Sorry, that was rude. I shouldn't have asked,' you quickly backpedal.  
'No, no. It's fine. It must look...odd, from the outside. I understand why you are curious.'

He takes a sip of coffee, then places his mug down on the counter. 'My parents, well they were rather well off. _Extremely_ well off, actually. My Father was a heart surgeon. My Mother, a lawyer. I never wanted for anything growing up.'

'Wait, they _were_ well off?'  
Kylo pauses. 'They're dead.'  
'Shit, I'm so sorry.' _Way to put your foot in it, Y/N._

'Don't be. They weren't exactly what you would call _attentive_ parents. My relationship with them was strained at the best of times. To be honest, when they died, well it was kind of a relief.'  
'What happened?'  
'There was a fire. At their house. Unfortunately, they didn't get out in time.' 

His brow settles into a deep set frown. You don't know what to say. You had only lost one parent, and even then, at least Mom was still alive. You can only imagine how difficult it must have been to lose both. 

'Anyway,' Kylo continues, 'I was their only child, so naturally I inherited everything. Most of their material possessions were lost in the fire. But they left me a sizable amount of money, too.'  
'So then, why are you still a teacher? Not for the salary, I presume.'

A flicker of a smile passes over his face. 'Because Y/N, I _enjoy_ it. And for me, that's what life is all about. Enjoyment. Satisfaction. In case you hadn't already noticed, I'm a man who is driven by pleasure.' 

You can feel your face growing hot again as Kylo smirks at you from across the table.  
'My turn,' he says. 'I have a question for you, too.'  
‘Sure,’ you reply, wondering what he could possibly want to know.

Kylo pauses for a moment, as if unsure of how to ask. 'Why did you do it?'  
'What?' you respond, knowing full well what he is referring to.  
'The overdose. Why did you want to kill yourself?'

You haven't told anyone exactly what happened that night. Not even Armie. 

'If I'm overstepping the mark, just tell me and I'll shut up. But I want to try and understand.'  
'I want to tell you, I do, but I'm scared.'  
'Scared of what?'  
You stare down at your lap. 'You won't want anything to do with me once I tell you.'

Kylo reaches his arm across the table and grabs hold of your hand, stroking it gently.  
'I highly doubt that.'

You look deeply into his eyes, so warm and comforting, and know you can trust him. 

You take a deep breath. And then you tell him. Everything. 

As you talk, Kylo listens. You recount the worst night of your life to him, watching his expression change from one of sadness, to horror and finally- anger. 

You begin to feel like a weight is being lifted. Like you were trapped underwater and are suddenly able to come up for air. 

The secrets, the shame, the regret that you had kept locked inside for so long, they were no longer eating away at you. You were free.

When you are done, Kylo stands and walks over to you, wrapping his strong arms tightly around you and pulling you close to his chest. He doesn't say anything, but just holds you. You hear his heart pounding rhythmically in his chest, the steady beat soothing you. 

One hand reaches to your face and wipes away the stream of tears flowing down your cheeks. You hadn't even realised you were crying. 

You're not sure how long you stand like that, protected by his warm embrace. Kylo strokes your hair and presses his lips to your forehead. 

Eventually, he breaks the silence.  
'It wasn't your fault, you know. What happened that night.'  
'I know. Sorry for getting upset. I've just never told anyone this before.'  
'You have nothing to apologise for, Y/N.' He cups your cheek tenderly.

'So, what else have you got planned for me today?' you ask, wanting to change the subject of conversation.  
'Well, what time do you need to be home by?' 

You glance at Kylo’s watch. It's 11am. Dad probably wouldn't even be up yet.  
'As long as I leave here by noon, I should be fine.'  
'So that gives us an hour?' he winks at you.  
'Yes, I suppose it does.'  
'Tell me, Y/N...what would you say to a shower?' Kylo says and pulls his top off, revealing his defined torso.

You drink him in, all six foot three inches of this towering man, who by some miracle, still wanted you too. 

A shower sounded like _exactly_ what you needed right now.


	20. Broken

Kylo POV

As always, you wake early. The room is still bathed in darkness, but you can just make out the shape of Y/N lying next to you. Her face is relaxed and peaceful as she sleeps, and the way her dark hair is spread over the pillow reminds you of a pre-raphaelite painting. 

You watch her for a while, the slow rise and fall of her chest with every breath, the slight flickering of her eyes as she dreams. You wonder if she’s dreaming of you. 

By 7am, the morning light is just starting to make an appearance through the curtains. You silently slide out of the bed, trying not to wake Y/N. She doesn’t stir. 

From the bottom drawer of the cabinet, you pull out a white robe and leave it at the end of the bed for her. Then, you head to your bedroom.

You throw on a t-shirt and a pair of joggers, before grabbing a packet of cigarettes and lighter from your bedside table. You walk out through the lounge and onto the balcony, immediately lighting one up and inhaling deeply. 

The sudden rush of nicotine entering your bloodstream instantly relaxes you. You take another long drag as you stare down at the sleepy town. Everything seems so peaceful at this time; the roads quiet and houses dark as the inhabitants enjoy their Saturday morning lie in. 

Last night had gone even better than planned. You had been anxious about showing this side of yourself to Y/N. Now it seems your concerns were unwarranted. She had been perfect. And you are completely infatuated. 

Your phone vibrates loudly in your pocket, bringing you sharply back to reality. It’s Riley.

_We need to talk. ASAP._

Your fantastic mood is abruptly ruined. Riley’s timing really was impeccable. Whatever she wanted to talk about, it could wait. There is only one person who deserves your attention right now. And it certainly isn't her.

You switch your phone off, extinguish your cigarette and head back inside. As you peek your head around the bedroom door, Y/N is still sound asleep. 

You go to the kitchen and put a pot of coffee on. You didn't tend to eat first thing in the morning, but caffeine was a necessity you couldn't live without. Y/N however, would be hungry when she eventually woke, so you decide to rustle up some breakfast. 

Without sounding big headed, you knew your way around a kitchen. Riley always said that being able to cook was one of your most attractive features. That it was a rare quality to find in a man these days. You lay out bacon under the grill and throw some eggs, flour and milk into a large bowl. 

From behind you, someone gives a small cough. Y/N has appeared. She grins shyly at you and yawns, rubbing her eye sleepily. 

She looks younger in the morning, more like her age. Her hair is out of place and messy, one side of her face slightly pink from resting on the pillow. She has wrapped herself up in the robe you left out and it swallows up her tiny frame, making her seem even more petite than usual. 

'Ah you're awake. Hungry?'  
'Starving,' she replies, her eyes darting to the stove.  
'I'm not surprised after your performance last night,' you tease and wink at her, causing her cheeks to turn a dark shade of scarlet. 'Have a seat, it won't be long.'

She walks slowly around the counter and perches on one of the stools. You can feel her eyes on you, watching you as you cook. 

You layer the pancakes in a neat stack on the plate, add the crispy bacon and top with a dash of maple syrup.

As you place the plate down in front of her, Y/N stares at the counter, her brow fixed into a deep frown. What was going on inside her head? You wish you knew what she was thinking.

‘You, ok?’  
She quickly snaps out of it, her face loosening. ‘Yes, fine. 'Thanks, Mr Ren.’  
You can't stop yourself from laughing. _Mr Ren_ sounds ridiculously formal when she is sitting half naked in your kitchen. 

'You don't have to call me that here, you know. My name is Kylo. I want to hear you say it.’  
She hesitates. 'Ok, thanks…Kylo.'  
It sounds good on her lips and stirs the desire within you. 

You take a seat and sip your coffee, watching her wolf down her food at speed. She has clearly worked up an appetite. 

_What now, Kylo?_ says the voice in your head. _Where did you go from here?_

You knew what you _wanted._ You haven’t felt so... _alive_ for a very long time, and it was not a feeling you wanted to lose. But that doesn’t mean that what you are doing is right. 

Y/N interrupts your train of thought.  
'Can I ask you something?' She has stopped eating, her fork poised about her food.

'Of course.'  
'And if you don't want to answer, I totally get it,' she says, as if her question was likely to offend.  
'Well, now I'm just intrigued.' 

She sets her fork down on the plate.  
'You're a high school chemistry teacher. And this place...well, it’s the nicest apartment I’ve ever seen. By a long, long way. It’s incredible.’

‘But?’ you say, waiting for the crux of the question.  
‘How _on earth_ can you afford it?' 

You raise an eyebrow at Y/N and stare at her over your glasses, surprised not by her curiosity, but rather, that she has the confidence to ask. After all, she isn't an idiot. And you haven’t exactly been subtle about your wealth.

But telling her the truth would mean telling her about _them._ Your parents. A subject you tried your hardest to avoid at all costs. 

Y/N takes your silence as a bad sign. 'Sorry,' she quickly apologises. 'That was rude. I shouldn't have asked.'  
'No, no. It's fine. It must look...odd, from the outside. I understand why you are curious.'

You tell her about your parents and your inheritance. Naturally, she asks what happened to them. You have buried that memory deep inside you for so long. It wasn't one that you particularly wanted to revisit, but what could you do? Lie to her? Make up some far fetched story that you hoped she'd believe? She deserves better than that. 

So, you concede and explain about the fire. Not in detail, of course, only what she needed to know. Y/N tells you how sorry she is that they're dead, her eyes full of sorrow and heartbreak for you. If only she knew. If only she knew how miserable they had made your existence. 

'So then, why are you still a teacher?' she asks, coming to the realisation that you aren't exactly short on money.

You smile at her naivety. 'Because Y/N, I enjoy it. And for me, that's what life is all about. Enjoyment. Satisfaction. In case you hadn't already noticed, I'm a man driven by pleasure.'  
Her skin flushes slightly at your provocative response. 

There was something you have been meaning to ask her too, but until now, haven't dared broaching the subject.

If she didn't want to tell you, you'd understand. But you had to at least ask. The question has been in the back of your mind ever since you met her. You decide to bite the bullet.

‘My turn. I have a question for you, too.’  
Y/N looks taken aback, as if she had not been anticipating you returning the favour. ‘Sure.’  
‘Why did you do it?’

Your question hangs heavy in the air for a moment. Y/N plays dumb. ‘What?’

You don't mince your words. 'The overdose. Why did you want to kill yourself?' 

Any trace of a smile left on her face quickly diminishes. She bites at her lip, clearly struggling with how to respond. 

'If I'm overstepping the mark, just tell me and I'll shut up. But I want to try and understand.'  
'I want to tell you, I do, but I'm scared.'  
'Scared of what?' you press.

Y/N breaks away from your gaze and stares down at the table. 'You won't want anything to do with me once I tell you.'

You reach across the counter and place your hand gently over hers. 'I highly doubt that.'

She closes her eyes for a moment, takes a deep breath and exhales.  
‘Everyone thinks that I’m crazy. That I’m some sort of suicidal, unstable nut job. But the truth is, I didn’t mean to nearly kill myself. It was an accident. I wanted to get fucked up, sure. Like _really_ fucked up. But I never meant for things to turn out the way they did.’

‘You see, my Mom and Dad, well... things had been bad for a while. I guess that’s what happens when you’ve been together since you were teenagers. As time goes on, you have to make an effort. You have to _work_ at being together. And my Dad...he stopped trying. He cared more about drinking than my Mom. She must have felt neglected, I suppose. Alone.’

‘And so one day, she decided she’d had enough. She left. Gone, just like that. She completely erased herself from the house. All her belongings, clothes, everything; all gone. It was like she had never even been there. I wasn’t even worth the trouble of a goodbye note.’

‘I came home and found Dad in the kitchen crying, drunk out of his mind of course. He'd smashed the place up. I’d never seen him like that before. He screamed at me. Told me it was all my fault. Told me I had ruined their lives. That Mom had never wanted me in the first place. She was seventeen when she had me, you see. She had to drop out of school to look after me, something she never let me forget.’ Y/N's lip trembles ever so slightly as she speaks. 

‘I knew Dad didn't really mean it; he was just upset, and it was the alcohol talking. But I couldn't be around him in that state, so I left the house. I had only one thing on my mind. I wanted to feel something, to get so fucked up I could forget about everything, even if just for a night. It was the start of summer and I knew Dylan was having a party, so I rounded up Armie and we went.’

‘The house was packed when we arrived, most of our year was there. But I soon found who I was looking for. Jake. I knew he’d have what I wanted. And he did, of course. But it was expensive, and I didn’t have enough money on me.’

‘Jake said not to worry, that there were... _other_ things I could give him instead. He took me upstairs, to a...bedroom.’ Y/N looks down at her hands in shame, unable to meet your eyes.

‘What happened, Y/N?’ you press, but you have a terrible feeling you already knew the answer.  
‘What do you think happened?' she whispers. ‘I gave him the only thing I had to offer. Myself.’  
Your stomach drops. You had been hoping your suspicions weren’t right. 

You stroke her hand. ‘I’m sorry.’  
She blinks away tears. ‘I didn’t give a shit at the time. I was desperate. And he had what I needed. It just was a means to an end.’

‘After we were done, he gave me the pills and left me to it. He didn’t tell me how many to take, so I took them all. Stupid, I know. But I didn’t care anymore. I just wanted everything to stop hurting.’

‘That’s all I remember. I woke up in hospital two weeks later. They told me Armie found me. That he'd stayed with me until the ambulance arrived.’ A single tear slowly trickles down her cheek. 

‘And you didn’t tell anyone what happened? No one knows it was Jake?’  
‘No. I’d already caused enough trouble, already had everyone talking about me. What do you think people would have thought if they knew...what would my Dad say if he found out that I-I…’ she can’t seem to finish the sentence. 

You are stunned into silence. You knew Y/N was troubled, but you'd had no idea just how fucked up things had been for her.

And as for Jake Reynolds, well, you would make him wish he'd never be born. 

You walk around the counter and pull Y/N in close to your chest, holding her tightly and trying to be of some comfort.You both stay silent, the gravity of what she has confessed to you still raw in your mind.

It didn't change how you felt about her of course. None of this was her fault. That _cunt_ took advantage of a vulnerable girl who had needed help. You would never let anyone hurt her again. 

You gaze down at her; this beautiful, broken girl and gently wipe away the tears that are flowing from her big brown eyes.  
'It wasn't your fault, you know. What happened that night.'  
'I know. Sorry for getting upset. I've just never told anyone this before.'  
'You have nothing to apologise for, Y/N.' You stroke her cheek and she gives you the smallest hint of a smile. 

It has taken a lot for her to confide in you like this. She trusts you and despite everything, that was a thought you took comfort in.

Y/N closes her eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath. 'So, what else have you got planned for me today?' she asks. It is clear she doesn’t want to dwell on the past anymore.  
'Well, what time do you need to be home by?' 

She pulls at your wrist to look at the face of your watch. 'As long as I leave here by noon, I should be fine.'  
_Perfect._ 'So that gives us an hour?'  
'Yes...I suppose it does,’ she smirks at you, biting her lip.

You pull your shirt over your head and throw it on the floor, making your intentions crystal clear.  
'Tell me Y/N, what would you say to a shower?' 

‘Please,’ she breathes and you bring your lips down to meet hers.


	21. Stalemate

Y/N POV

Kylo kisses you hard, pressing your body between his and the kitchen counter. His hands head straight to your waist and hastily pull at the belt of your robe, untying it as quickly as possible. He pushes the material off of your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. Your hairs stand on end as the cold air hits your naked skin.

As you bring your arms around his neck, he lifts you easily off of the ground, almost as if you are weightless. You wrap your legs around him and he supports your ass with his strong hands.

His grip firm on your backside, Kylo carries you from the kitchen into the vast bathroom. You kiss at his neck, breathing in the musky, woody scent of his skin that now seems so familiar.

The bathroom you are taken to is designed with the same opulence that the rest of the apartment possessed. The shower itself is enormous, the panel of glass covering the whole back wall of the room. From behind it, you can see multiple shower heads and jets protruding from the ceiling and walls. 

Kylo places you down gently and quickly frees himself of what little clothes he has on. He leads you behind the thick panel of glass and presses a button on the wall, igniting the stream of hot water. 

It washes over him, shimmering across his thick pectorals and down his flat, toned stomach to his growing erection. His dark hair now soaked through, it falls into his eyes as he stares down upon you, hunger blazing through them. You gaze at him in wonder, scarcely able to believe he is real.

Kylo extends an arm over your shoulder, placing his hand on the back wall of the shower, trapping you against it. The other hand reaches down to yours and guides your grip to his cock.  
‘Stroke me,’ he whispers. 

Heat pools in your core at his words. You wrap your fingers around him, firmly pumping the length of his shaft. Kylo moans in response and his mouth attacks yours once more, his tongue a welcome invasion as it dances with your own. 

You glide your hand up and down the length of him, feeling the hardness of his desire that you know is all for you. 

You mould together, both of your bodies intertwining as the water continues to flow down on you. Kylo's fingers circle your nipples, bringing them to attention. You squeeze his cock harder, the pace of your hand quickening. 

'Turn around, Princess.'  
Kylo pushes you up against the wet slate tiles and rubs his cock against your ass as the warm water cascades down your back. He moves your hair to one side, kissing the back of your neck. It sends shivers down your spine. He grinds against you and you wait with baited breath for the sensation you so desire. 

In one swift move he pushes himself into you. You can feel every inch of him, stretching you wide once more. Would you ever get bored of this feeling? Kylo, buried deep inside of you, your bodies moving as one, making you feel whole. 

He pushes slowly in and out, allowing your body to accommodate his size. The wetness of your skin makes a loud smacking noise as your ass repeatedly bumps against his hips. 

Two fingers find their way to your mouth and Kylo hooks them around the corner of your lips, pulling your jaw open and causing your saliva to drip down onto the shower floor. He begins to move faster, with a fresh urgency as he slams into you like he can't get enough.

He pulls your head back sharply by your hair and brings his mouth to your ear. 'I own your cunt, do you hear me? No one fucks you but me.'  
And he was right. You would never want anyone else like this. 

Your whole body is aflame as you move together, his rock hard member repeatedly hitting your sweet spot. One firm hand reaches around your body to stimulate your clit in time with his powerful thrusts. It sends you crazy, your body melting against him and you shout out.

'Fuck, Kylo!'  
'That's it sweetheart, say my name,' he tells you between thrusts.  
'Ah, Kylo!'  
'Once more. Scream it baby. Nice and loud.'

Your orgasm tears through you, your entire body tensing up as you splinter around Kylo. Your legs shake and buckle beneath you, but he holds onto you tightly, stopping you from falling to the shower floor.

'Oh, that's my good, good girl,’ he coos. But his thrusts are slowing. You look over your shoulder at him in confusion, all too aware that he has not yet reached his own peak.

He gives you a wicked grin. 'Oh, don't worry. I'm not done with you yet. Get on your knees.' 

You kneel before him, the white porcelain tiles hard against your bony legs. Kylo stands before you in all his glory and presses the head of his cock to your lips.

You slowly extend your tongue and circle it around him.  
'Do you want my cum, slut?' he asks, furiously stroking himself.  
'Yes, Kylo. Please, give it to me.'  
'Mmm that's right, you nasty little whore. Take it for me. Take it all.'

His hot seed spurts from the end of his cock, coating your face as he shouts your name. You keep your eyes open and locked on him, watching his climax take hold. 

This was when he was most beautiful. When he let go completely, lost all inhibitions. Nothing else mattered in this moment. Only you and him. 

Kylo reaches a hand down to you and wipes the cum from your cheek with his thumb, before inserting it into your mouth.

'Suck,' he instructs and you lick it clean, tasting the salty, delicious fluid. 

Kylo helps you to your feet and turns the shower head off. You stand there, dripping wet as a chill breezes over your bare skin. Kylo wraps a fluffy white towel around your shoulders and then one around his own waist. 

He's staring at you again, watching intently as you dry yourself off. You clear your throat and broach a subject you have been avoiding.

'So...when can I...you know, see you again?'  
His dark eyes twinkle at you. 'I'll see you when I'm back in school. We have chemistry every Monday and Friday, remember.'  
You roll your eyes at him. 'Not _like that.'_

Kylo quietens, his face smoothing over. 'I know what you meant. But we need to be careful. We can't raise suspicions. We can't risk anyone finding out.'  
'So?'  
'I'll let you know.'

That was it? Your face falls and your anguish must be clear as Kylo quickly follows with 'Soon, I promise.'

You dress in silence and reluctantly pack up your belongings. Kylo watches you as always, his brow painted into a deep frown. There was so much you wanted to say to him, but you didn't know where to begin.

He walks you to the door and raises a hand to your cheek, delicately running the tips of his fingers over your skin. 

'Bye, Princess,' he says, a smile dancing across his lips.  
'Bye... _Mr Ren,'_ you reply, the sarcasm heavy in your voice as you step out into the hallway. 

He rolls his eyes. 'See you soon,' he whispers as he closes the door. Suddenly, all too quickly - you are alone again. 

You head back down in the lift, feeling somewhat empty and already missing Kylo. You wish you could stay longer. You wish things weren't so...complicated.

But you had to leave. Despite your wishes, your _desires,_ whatever this was - it had to remain a secret. 

The doorman at the entrance holds one of the heavy gold doors open wide for you. You are about to step through, when someone walks right across your path. 

A woman, mid thirties if you were going to guess, barges through the open door and into the lobby. Her eyes are glued to her cell phone and she doesn't even notice you as she brushes past. 

You however, stop in your tracks, unable to look away from her. She's incredible looking. _Striking._ The kind of woman that made heads turn in the street.

Her flowing hair is thick and long, so blonde it is almost silver and shimmers in the light. She has a figure to die for; a tiny waist, voluptuous breasts and endless long legs that are only accentuated by the pointed stiletto heels she is wearing. 

She has cat-like features; sharp high cheekbones, eyes a deep emerald green and a tiny, perfect nose. Her plump lips are painted a deep blood red colour, which match the talon like nails that click away on her phone. 

You gawk at this woman as she walks past you, suddenly feeling your age. You weren't surprised Kylo's building attracted residents like her. Rich. Classy. Beautiful. She probably owned another of the penthouse apartments.

You hop on the bus back home, playing through the last 24 hours. Your head is filled with images of Kylo. His lips on your skin, tickling softly as he whispers your name. His firm body pressed against yours, muscular and powerful. His touch between your legs, a delicate stroke that ignites a fire in your core. 

You snap back to reality, your beautiful daydream fading and realise you have almost missed your stop. 

Once home, you head straight into the kitchen and pull a carton of juice from the fridge. You take a long swig, the sticky liquid trickling from your mouth. 

'Hey hun. How was the sleepover?' Dad has appeared from the front room.  
'Oh, um it was...fun,' you lie, trying not to look directly at him.  
'I'm glad you had a good time. Hope you didn't get up to too much trouble, I know what you girls are like.' 

You choke on your orange juice, spluttering loudly.  
Dad raises an eyebrow. 'You ok sweetie?'  
'Fine Dad, just...a bit of a cough I guess.' You can feel your face glowing.

'Well I'm just about to head out. See you later?'  
'Sure.'  
Good. You didn't need anymore awkward questions.

As soon as Dad is out the door, you head upstairs and collapse onto your bed. The last 24 hours have been an incredible blur and now you realise just how exhausted you are. You can feel your eyelids beginning to droop, the soft beckoning of sleep starting to take hold. 

BANG BANG BANG  
Your eyes open and you sit upright, annoyed at the rude interruption of someone knocking on the front door. Reluctantly, you make your way back downstairs. 

Armie is standing on your porch, his arms folded, expression serious.  
‘Oh. It’s you.’ You are unable to hide the disappointment in your voice.

He pushes past you, making no attempt to wait for an invitation in. ‘We need to talk.’  
‘About what, Armie?’ you say, but already know the answer. You close the front door and head back up the stairs. 

He follows you back to your bedroom and makes himself at home on the foot of your bed. You sit down beside him, slightly annoyed at the unwanted intrusion.

'I know you said you couldn't tell anyone, but I couldn't stop thinking about where you were last night. And well, _who_ you were with. I'm worried Y/N. I don't want to see you get hurt. Again.' 

'Armie, I'm not going to get hurt. I was fine. I was safe.'  
'Then tell me. Come on, whoever it is, it can't be that bad.'

You hesitate, considering your options. Armie wasn't going to drop it, that much was clear. And you could trust him, right? 

'Ok, but you have to swear you won't tell _anyone._ Promise me, Armie.'  
'Ok, ok, I promise.'  
'It's...Mr Ren.'

Armie looks at you blankly. 'What's Mr Ren?'  
'The guy.'  
'What do you mean?' He still wasn't getting it.  
'Armie,' you say slowly. The guy I've been seeing. It's Mr Ren. My chemistry teacher.' 

His eyes widen as he finally comprehends what you are telling him. 'What? Y/N, what the fuck?'  
'I know. And I know you're probably going to say its a stupid idea, but-'

'A stupid idea? Y/N, have you lost your _fucking mind?'_ Armie stands from the bed. 'He's a teacher, for god's sake. You're a student. What kind of twisted, sick fuck-'

Now you were getting angry. 'Hey! He's not like that-'  
'Of course he is. He's what, double your age? It's fucking weird.' 

'Look, I don't expect you to understand, but-'  
'He's using you, can't you see that? He doesn't give a shit about some pathetic school girl. He's just trying to get his dick wet.' 

Armie's words sting and you can feel the tears forming in your eyes.  
'What happens when he gets bored of you, hmm? Have you thought about that? I get to pick up the pieces I suppose? Well guess what, maybe I'm tired of watching you self-destruct, Y/N.'

'You're just jealous!' you scream at him.  
'Jealous? Of what exactly?'  
'Jealous that I'm happy. Jealous that someone actually _wants_ me. Jealous because you're still the same, sad little virgin you always have been.' 

As soon as the words leave your mouth, you instantly regret them. Armie blinks blindly at you, as if for a moment, he can't believe what you've said.

'Fine. Well, I guess we're done here.' He motions towards the doorway.  
'Armie, wait. I'm sorry-'  
'No, Y/N. I'm not going to sit around and watch you sabotage your own life again.'

He pauses and turns to you. 'Oh and by the way, I made track. Thanks for asking.' He slams your bedroom door and leaves. 

You fall to your bed, unable to prevent the tears from cascading down your cheeks. The elation you had felt mere minutes ago has completely vanished, replaced with a sickening guilt. 

In your fifteen years of friendship, you could easily count the arguments you have had with Armie on one hand. Even then, they had been stupid, childish tiffs. 

This felt different. You'd never seen Armie so mad; his words icy and cold, they had meant to hurt you and had succeeded. 

You knew deep down he was just trying to look out for you, like an overprotective brother. But he had no idea what he was talking about. You were happy. For the first time in...you couldn't even remember.

Where did you go from here? You had reached stalemate. There was no resolution to be had. You couldn't see Armie having a change of heart anytime soon. And giving up Kylo? That was not something you were prepared to do.


End file.
